


Bitch You Live Like This???

by TalkingGrape



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Forgive Me, M/M, Not quite enemies to friends to lovers, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, also we all need a disaster bi like tina in our lives, au gavin is a fireman he wont let a flame near him kind of slow burn, connor is a precious egg, did i say slow burn? i meant no burn, gavin isnt a piece of shit but he also is a piece of shit ya dig, gavin reed is pure of heart and dumb of ass, more like, these fucking idiots move so slow, tolerating each other to friends to what are we? to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkingGrape/pseuds/TalkingGrape
Summary: In which I lean way too hard into Gavin being Gen Z and Tina Chen has incredible bisexual friendship super powers. Also angst??? In my dog loving android??? It's more likely than you think.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 112
Kudos: 239





	1. Gavin Has Access To DongerList.com

Gavin is, much to his chagrin, a fucking morning person. He can’t turn it off, it lives inside him like a parasite, controlling his every move. Wake up at four a.m., make coffee, have a light breakfast, go for a jog, shower, get dressed, and if he’s lucky all that will take enough time to make him get into the station just a couple hours too early for his shift. Even when he doesn’t set his alarm, he finds himself rolling out of bed before sunup, feeding his cat and feeling far more awake than he has any excuse to, given the time of day. 

The worst part is that he feels like he needs an afternoon nap right around nine in the morning everyday, because he’s a freak of nature with a sleep schedule meant for an ER nurse or an opening shift barista at Starbucks, not a fucking cop who’s entire job usually takes place at sundown. 

There’s no cure for his disease. He’s tried to sleep in, almost desperately so, lying awake in his bed and staring at the ceiling for hours until his alarm tells him to get to work. He’s gone to bed later and later each night, hoping that maybe he just needs to move his sleep schedule a little to the left. Hell, he even tried to cut caffeine out of his diet that one time. He’s never seen an intervention to get someone back on a drug before then. 

But his lack of sleep is relentless, forcing him to ingest copious amounts of coffee throughout the day and pretend that his eyebags don’t weigh a fuckton as he sifts through mountains of unending reports and paperwork until far enough into the evening that freaks feel comfortable enough to show their faces and he inevitably gets called into the field, not getting home until late. It’s a rare day when he falls asleep before midnight. 

Maybe he’s not a morning person. Maybe he’s just an insomniac. 

Okay, so, Gavin is, much to his chagrin, an insomniac. Incapable of operating at normal hours like a normal person. Combine that with his unhealthy obsession with work, and he may or may not all but live in the bullpen. He probably really would if he didn’t have to go home and feed his cat. That three-legged gremlin is the only thing in the world keeping him semi-human. That and coffee. And maybe Tina. But mostly the cat. 

Thanks to Gavin’s desk-goblin lifestyle, he’s learned a few things. Things like: the cleaning android’s name is Aria, the graveyard shift beat cops are the reason the microwave in the breakroom keeps fucking breaking, and he’s not the only desk-goblin in the station. 

It’s a strange thing, to find such a random tidbit of solidarity in someone he legitimately tried to shoot once. Or twice. It’s not even like he ever really meant to do it. The finding solidarity thing. He definitely tried to shoot Connor on purpose, although he definitely feels like a dick for it now that they’re, like, goblin bros. 

Okay, so not so much bros, as they just always seem to be there at the same time, in the hollowed out bullpen with the lights low to save power, both of them staring at their terminals like they actually have something to be doing multiple hours before they’re supposed to be in for the day. Sometimes Connor is already there when Gavin arrives, sometimes Gavin is in first. But they’re always the first in, and usually the last to leave. 

They don’t really talk or anything, Gavin’s not even sure what he’d have to say, ‘ _hey I know I tried to kill you that one time, but it all turned out okay in the end, so like if you wanna hang sometime here’s my number hmu?’_ It doesn’t sound like something that would turn out well. Besides, he’s not sure if his shriveled little goblin heart could handle it when Connor inevitably shot _that_ genius line down. So he keeps his mouth shut and continues to scroll through phone apps and occasionally do a piece of paperwork or two in silence alongside his fellow workaholic. 

Their ‘bromance,’ as Connor once called it, continues on in the background of everything else, not getting in the way, but not exactly staying out of the way either. Gavin’s definitely losing some of his mental processing power to the fact that he seems to share a sleepless ritual with an android, and he can’t help but keep his eye out for the other when he’s in the bullpen at fuckall o’clock in the morning. He notices that Connor has, like, three outfits that he wears in various combinations. Obviously androids don’t really sweat or anything, but their work is covered in blood and thirium and dirt, and Gavin can’t help but wonder if maybe Connor just has a capsule wardrobe like a cartoon character. He snorts at the idea of Connor opening up his closet to reveal tens of copies of his exact outfit, earning him a strange look from the aforementioned android due to the fact that they are, once again, the only people in the bullpen at eleven p.m. on a Tuesday night. 

He just rolls his eyes at Connor, finishing up the detailing of a case report and sending it off before collecting his shit and heading for the door, glancing back to find the android still staring at his terminal with an almost strained look on his face. He wants to shoot a joke out or call out goodnight or literally anything at all, but it would ruin the whole ‘silent’ part of their silent bond. Besides, he’s pretty sure Connor fucking hates him. And for good reason. 

But he’s trying to do better. And if that means keeping his fucking mouth shut around Connor because he knows he has nothing he can say without coming across wrong and angry, then so fucking be it. At the very least, he’s stopped antagonizing the android. He knows it’s not enough, it’ll never be enough, but it’s a start. 

He leaves a tip for Aria on her cleaning cart on his way out, because even though she’s being paid now, he knows she’s not being paid enough. Again, trying to do better. It’s still hard for him sometimes, to see an android working, LED on their head and for him to not feel bitter because a human could’ve had that job. But then he remembers just twenty years ago when people felt the same way about other human beings, despite them being alive and feeling and _real._ And yeah, it takes him a second to remember that androids are also alive and feeling and real, and he doesn’t like that it does. He has too many reasons to dislike himself, he’s not going to keep letting this be one of them. 

So, for once in his life he keeps his anger directed at people who deserve it, murderers and dealers, maybe also his brother, because fuck that guy. He keeps his hands on the steering wheel of his car on his way home, resisting the constant urge to pull out a cigarette, because he knows that jogging in the morning won’t stop him from getting lung cancer. He gives up and lights up halfway there. He’s a work in progress. Rome wasn’t built in a day, blah, blah, blah.

He makes it home just a little past eleven thirty, his cat waiting for him at the door so he can fill up her food and give her some much needed attention. They fall asleep snuggling on the couch with old Criminal Minds reruns playing in the background. 

-+-+-

He jerks awake sweating and cursing, the memories of broken glass and blood on his tongue already fading to the background as his cat digs her claws into his thigh in punishment for disturbing her rest. Checking his almost dead phone reveals that he’s awake before his alarm once again, and he knows he’s not getting back to sleep any time soon. He wonders if Connor sleeps. If the reason the android is always working is because he just doesn’t need to stop. Or maybe he’s just as much of an insomniac as Gavin. He wonders what android dreams are like.

Pushing his cat off his lap, Gavin stands up, stretching until his back pops and his shoulder reminds him of an injury he got countless months ago that still bothers him even after months of physical therapy. Although to be fair, he skipped half of the sessions, and only kind of listened to the advice the doctors gave him. It’s probably a miracle he has any range of motion at all, really. 

“God I need a fucking cigarette.” He makes coffee instead, grabbing a bagel to go with it as he pours himself a cup with way too much sugar. 

After breakfast he goes for a run, desperate to work out the nervous energy that builds up in his body with every minute that he’s not smoking. Maybe quitting being an asshole _and_ quitting smoking at the same time wasn't the best idea. He’s definitely ‘one annoying slip up from a rookie away from popping like the ugly zit he is’ in Tina’s eloquent words. He tripped her in the hall for that one. She put salt in his coffee in revenge. 

If anyone gets him to have a meltdown it’ll probably be her. God he fucking hates her. She’s his best fucking friend in the world. 

He gets home from his jog and showers fast, changing into a worn hoodie and jeans that naturally got the rips in them as opposed to being bought that way. He doesn’t have anything against pre-ripped jeans, but damn does he feel proud when he manages to wear a pair into the ground in just the right way that it looks like it’s on purpose. It’s a weird flex, but he’s got nothing better to do than brag about the fact that he’s too poor and lazy to get a new pair of jeans. That and work. 

Speaking of which… He grabs his jacket, layering it over his hoodie because it’s fucking cold out, dumps some food in his cat’s dish and gives her one last pat on the head before grabbing his keys and phone and heading the fuck out. He charges his phone in his car on the way to work, focusing on the road instead of the itch in his fingers to reach into his pocket for a cigarette. 

He makes the entire trip sans-nicotine this time, the sun just barely hinting at the possibility of rising as he parks his car and steps out into the freezing morning air of Detroit. He can hear sirens off in the distance, one of his coworkers that drew the short straw and got stuck with the graveyard shift no doubt chasing down some idiot. Hell, maybe he’ll get a call in a minute about a murder suspect and he’ll be saved from the stack of paperwork he knows is waiting for him inside. 

When he gets to his desk, the paperwork is there waiting for him just like he expected. What he wasn’t expecting was the steaming cup of coffee waiting for him as well. He glances around him, wondering if this is some kind of prank like the salt thing with Tina. The only person in the bullpen is sitting with a pinched expression focused on his terminal right next to Anderson’s desk just like always. 

Something like guilt mixed with indignity settles in his stomach, because first of all what the fuck? And second of all how so very fucking dare Connor have the audacity to do something nice for Gavin when he’s still working his way up to saying nice things instead of going selectively mute around the goddamn android? Still. Free coffee.

What? He’s not gonna be a dick and _not_ drink it. That’d be even worse. So he takes a sip and bites back a grimace. Not enough sugar. Luckily he’s a fucking disaster and hoards sugar packets in his desk. He grabs a few and starts pouring them in, oblivious to the pinched expression that's now focused on the side of his face. 

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive, Detective?” Connor’s voice catches him off guard in the silence of the room, nearly making him jump. 

He turns his attention to Connor, stirring his coffee with a closed pen before taking a sip. “I can only handle so many life improvement projects at once. Unless you’re trying to push me to a breakdown, I’ll work on the sugar intake after I can go a week without ripping through a pack of Nicorette with my teeth like a starving rat.” 

Connor snorts, literally fucking _snorts_ , and Gavin feels his mind flatline for a minute at the sound. He didn’t know that androids could have laughs that weren’t off puttingly perfect, but that, that was definitely not perfect. “Understood. Enjoy your coffee, Detective.” 

He raises an eyebrow at Connor, wishing for a moment that he came equipped with the magical face scanning/mind reading technology that the android definitely has. He wants to know what’s going on in that neuronet processor of his. “Yeah. I will. Thanks.” He tips his mug in Connor’s direction before turning back to his computer, mentally patting himself on the back for not calling the other a tin can at all during the conversation. That’s basically payment for a cup of coffee, right? Right?

His phone vibrates from its charging station on his desk, and he knows it’s from Tina before he even checks it, because literally no one else would text him. Well, Chris would, but not this early. 

**T-man:** gonna be in late today pray fowler has fed in the last 24 hours 

Gavin huffs a quiet laugh, rolling his eyes at Tina’s antics. Everyone loves her, even Fowler. She could show up late with no excuse other than she just wasn’t feeling it and she’d probably get away with it. 

**G-man:** first of all

 **G-man:** fed on what?

 **G-man:** second of all

 **G-man:** why u gon be late???

**T-man:** blood, duh

 **T-man:** also thats classified sir

**G-man:** omg

 **G-man:** u were phkin 

**T-man:** nO

**G-man:** yES

**T-man:** i cant tell u 

**G-man:** gasp ʕ ・ Д ・ ʔ

 **G-man:** u mean 

**G-man:** u dont trust me??!??

**T-man:** oh no

**G-man:** ur bffl???

 **G-man:** u kno wat that maeks me?

**T-man:** not sad bear

**G-man:** A SAD BEAR ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

**T-man:** noooooooooooo

 **G-man:** ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

 **G-man:** ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

 **G-man:** ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

 **G-man:** ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

**T-man:** HES SO SAAAAAAD

**G-man:** ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

**T-man:** omg fine ill tell u

**G-man:** ʕ◉ᴥ◉ʔ

**T-man:** i found a stray cat

**G-man:** ʕ⊙ᴥ⊙ʔ

**T-man:** and im taking it TO THE SHELTER 

**G-man:** ʕ⊙ᴥ⊙ʔ

**T-man:** gav… no....

**G-man:** (⊃･ᴥ･)つ gimme

**T-man:** gav its going to a nokill shelter okay???

**G-man:** what color is it??? 

**G-man:** is it a girl or boy????

 **G-man:** wait wait wait 

**G-man:** just send a pic

**T-man:** no you already have a cat and i refuse to let you become that crazy cat gay

**G-man:** cmon t just send a pic i wanna see the babby

**T-man:** i cant 

**G-man:** y

**T-man:** because if i send it youll steal the cat

**G-man:** im gonna steal the cat no matter what

**T-man:** seriously???

**G-man:** seriously

**T-man:** omg fine

 **T-man:** [picture]

 **T-man:** there happy?

**G-man:** omg

 **G-man:** omg

 **G-man:** omg

 **G-man:** omg

**T-man:** gav?

**G-man:** one ear

 **G-man:** many toes

 **G-man:** omg

**T-man:** oh my fucking god ure ridiculous

**G-man:** its a polydactyl cat with one ear!!!! i need the bab

**T-man:** ffs

 **T-man:** ill leave it with suz until you can come get it after work

**G-man:** i owe u my life

**T-man:** u do

Gavin looks up from his phone with a victorious smile on his face and plans to leave work at a reasonable time for once in his life, his eyes catching Connor’s stare, the other raising a curious eyebrow at him. He simply shrugs in response, not in the mood to share his personal life with a guy that he just started being kinda civil with today, instead turning back to the report in front of him, hoping he can pass the time quickly until he can leave. 

Obviously, time goes slow as shit now that he has something to look forward to. Gavin finds himself checking the time obsessively until five p.m., jetting out of his seat and casting a wave over his shoulder at Chris as the man remarks on his early leave. 

He stops at a pet store on his way to Tina’s, buying a new food dish, litter box, a collar, and a few more toys and treats to help gain the love and trust of his newest family member. 

Tina isn’t there when he gets to her place, but her fiance, Suzan, is. He doesn’t know Suzan too well, he sees her sometimes when Tina drags both him and her out for drinks. She’s nice and puts up with him when he comes over for movie nights and bitching sessions with Tina. 

“Hey, Suz. Where's the little bean?” She’s also the only person alive (other than Tina) that will ever see Gavin Motherfucking Reed act, dare he say it, wholesome.

Suzan opens the door for him, letting him into the apartment and leading him through the kitchen and living room. “In the bathroom, cowering from Manchego and Brie.” 

“Poor baby.” He checks to make sure the aforementioned dogs are nowhere to be seen before opening the bathroom door and stepping inside, Suzan stays outside to placate the hyper cheese slices demanding a feline sacrifice. 

Gavin sits down on the floor, spotting a bony pile of patchy, black fur curled up in the corner where the counter meets the wall furthest from the door. It’s a very long process, gaining a cat’s trust. He waits patiently, probably for upwards of an hour before the cat even looks in his direction. His heart fucking melts at the sight of it’s big green eyes and scarred nose. 

He manages to coax the scared baby into a carrier around the same time Tina finally gets home, placating the cat’s nerves with some treats that she only seems mildly interested in. He steps out of the bathroom, carrier held close to his chest so Tina’s nightmare dogs have a harder time getting to his newly adopted child. 

“Manny, Brie, down.” The greyhounds immediately recognize Tina’s order, which Gavin is extremely grateful for. He doesn’t want the pair to undo all the work he just did calming the cat down. The car ride will do that well enough. 

“Hey T, thanks for feeding my addiction.” 

Tina rolls her eyes, looking into the carrier to see green ones peering cautiously back at her. “Yeah, whatever. It was only a matter of time ‘til you got another after the first one. Have you named it yet?” 

“ _She_ is a girl, and no, not yet.” He still needs to sleep on it. 

“Okay, well, if you need any help naming _her_ I’ve already got some ideas.”

“I’m not naming my fucking cat after a type of cheese, you heathen.”

Tina gasps, feigning offense. “Oh yeah, because Yardstick is such a good name for a cat.”

“She’s only got three feet!” 

Suzan puts a hand to her mouth, eyes going wide. “Oh my god I just got the joke.” 

Gavin snorts, Tina laughs harder than necessary while putting what is probably meant to be a comforting hand on her fiance’s shoulder. “On that note, I’m taking my new daughter home. It’s gonna take all fucking night to get Yardstick used to another cat in the apartment. Possibly all week.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted another cat.” Tina holds her hands up, abolishing any of her responsibility for Gavin’s newest child.

“You didn’t _have_ to tell me you found her.” 

Tina gapes at Gavin for a solid minute. “Fuck you! You used Sad Bear on me! I had to!”

The only response she gets is a wave from Gavin. “Bye Suz, bye T.” 

“Bye, Gavin.” Suzan waves over Tina’s shoulder as her fiance continues to glare at him. 

+-+-+

Getting his spoiled-ass princess of a cat used to a new member of the household is about as tedious as Gavin expects it to be. He spends hours getting the new cat set up with food, water, and a litter box separate from Yardstick’s, keeping the cat safe and separate in the bathroom like the internet says to do. That means that he has to move Yardstick’s litter box to a random spot in his apartment, which he’s really not happy about. Yardstick isn’t too hyped about it either. 

Yardstick is also pretty pissy about the fact that Gavin spends the rest of the night in the bathroom, giving treats to the new cat and petting her when she’ll let him. He snaps a few pictures of Yardstick’s paw sticking through the crack under the door as she meows desperately for attention, sending the photos to Tina. 

He falls asleep leaning awkwardly against the bathtub with a cat curled up on his chest, purring away and kneading at his shirt with its little mitten-shaped paws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i update on random days, but i at least try to do it once a week.


	2. Suck On THIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin whump but not in the way you're expecting.

He names the cat Bathroom. It’s about as cruel as naming a cat Yardstick and just as fitting. He’s not sure when he decides the name. Definitely sometime between getting the cat home and waking up with the porcelain of a bathtub digging into his back and a horrible pain in his shoulder from the awkward sleeping position. 

Checking the time on his phone lets him know that he’s woken up even earlier than the day before, undoubtedly because of the literal _agony_ in his back and shoulder. He gently moves Bathroom from his chest, pulling himself onto his feet and groaning. He would kill for a hot shower ASAP, fuck his morning jog. He turns the water on, then, after watching Bathroom freak out and scuttle into the corner, he turns it off. No morning shower today, then. He settles for heavily applying deodorant, some dry shampoo, and taking twice the recommended amount of Tylenol. 

He changes into some clean clothes while his coffee brews, drinking it while it’s still a little too hot before making sure the cats’ food is full. Then, because he has literally nothing better to do, he goes to work. 

He smokes on the way there, because he’s in pain and he’s tired and it’s pitch fucking black out and he deserves a damn cigarette, okay? Granted his agony is purely self-inflicted, but it still fucking sucks, dammit. 

Once he gets to the precinct, he stands outside and lights up another cigarette. He’s pretty much ruined his willpower for the day already, he may as well enjoy his little ‘cheat day’ while he can. 

“I thought you were trying to quit, Detective.” 

Connor’s voice startles him, making him breathe in too much smoke way too fast and choke on a cough. “Jesus, fuck you.” 

“My name is Connor, not Jesus. And unfortunately for you, I’m not that easy, Detective. At least take me to dinner first.” Gavin turns to see an amused smirk on Connor’s face. 

“Oh, so he’s been programmed with jokes? Anything else fun in that code of yours?” He stomps out his cigarette, not in the mood to finish it off now that he’s got an audience that knows he’s not supposed to have it. 

“My programming doesn’t have anything to do with it. Maybe before I was deviant it did, but now I have thoughts and feelings just like anyone else, Detective Reed.” Connor’s words come out fast and defensive, like he’s saying something controversial. And to some people, Gavin supposes, he is. If this was a few months ago, Gavin would be annoyed that the robot was insisting on having _feelings._ But now he just feels like an asshole because Connor obviously feels the need to point out what should be well known information to him. 

“Yeah. I know.” He suddenly regrets snuffing out his cigarette, but he’s too stubborn to dig out another. 

Connor blinks at him, brown eyes wide with surprise. “You kn-? What, no snarky come back?”

And Gavin supposes that he’s done more than enough to earn Connor’s suspicion right now. But it still fucking sucks. “What, you want one?” 

“No.” Connor’s hands settle in his pockets, and Gavin can hear a crinkling sound. “No. Not really.” The android pulls out a small bag full of lollipops, tossing them in Gavin’s direction. He barely catches them before they hit the ground. “People who attempt to quit smoking tend to develop an oral fixation. I figured this might help.” 

Gavin stares at the bag in his hand for a moment, dumbfounded. “Uh. Thanks.” If Connor was so apprehensive around him, then why bring him a gift? Does he think he needs to earn Gavin’s approval? Does he think _he_ needs to apologize for the evidence room incident? Maybe Connor was hoping to placate him enough to keep him from getting violent in the future? Any possibility Gavin can think of just has him feeling more confused and guilty. “Hey listen-” He turns to face the android only to realize he’s alone once more. 

God he needs a cigarette. 

He opens the pack of lollipops, picking one at random and unwrapping it before sticking it in his mouth. Strawberry. Not bad. He heads inside to find Connor already hard at work at his own desk, doing that weird white hand shit that Gavin still doesn’t understand. He sits down, unable to muffle the pained groan he lets out as he does so. He can feel eyes on the back of his head as his neck and face heat up. 

Luckily he’s saved from any comments, questions, or concerns from Connor by one of the night shift rookies blowing up the fucking microwave _again._ Connor rushes into the breakroom to save the day, and Gavin curls up in the least painful way he can in his chair, scrolling idly through case files. 

He blocks out the officers’ arguing and cursing by putting in a pair of earbuds and listening to some music as he opens a case file for what is most likely an open and shut case. When a cheating spouse dies, it’s not too hard to guess as to who done it. Still, Gavin doesn’t want to imprison an innocent man for something he didn’t do just because there’s a strong motive and a weak alibi. He always promised himself he wouldn’t be one of _those_ cops. The kind that just point a finger and don’t actually test evidence just because they want to reach their monthly quota. Plus, sinking himself into a case, as easy as it may appear, is the best way for him to pass time until he can finally clock out and go home to Bathroom and Yardstick. He wants to make sure the newest member of his family is acclimating well and that Yardstick didn’t get her paw stuck under the bathroom door. 

And maybe, just maybe, he could turn this whole ‘leaving work on time’ thing into a habit. He could get to see his pets for more than an hour a night, he would have time to clean up around his house, and he could make himself dinner instead of just eating out of the vending machines in the office. 

The only reason he doesn’t laugh at himself for the stupidly optimistic thought is because there’s other people around and it would make him look crazy. He’ll be back to living in the office fourteen hours a day as soon as another exciting case hits, obsessing over every detail and not going home until Tina forces him to with threats of breaking his knees just to get him some fucking time off for once in his life. Not like that would stop him. Even when he was supposed to be on medical leave with a concussion and bruised ribs after he got his ass handed to him by Connor in the evidence locker he showed back up at work three days later and tried to fight Fowler when the captain tried to get him to go back home and rest. 

Even on his three days off he snuck some files home with him and wouldn’t stop calling and bugging Chris anytime he had an idea or a breakthrough. 

If he stops working, he dies. Simple as that. 

And if he dies, who will feed his cats?

So he buckles down, passing time by reviewing logged evidence and going over interviews and, yeah the husband definitely did it, but he still needs to wait for the fingerprints on the weapon in evidence to be verified before he gives the go ahead to bring the guy in for good. He sends an email to rush things along, and then decides that he’s earned himself a cup of fucking coffee. He takes out his earbuds, pausing his music and listening to make sure the break room is cleared of loud idiots before he stands and makes his way over to get himself a cup of coffee. He notes the now very smokey and exploded microwave, rolling his eyes as he forces the finicky coffee machine to cooperate. If the damn rookies didn’t keep blowing up the microwave he’d bust the coffee machine so they could get a new one. Unfortunately a solid eighty percent of police funding seems to be going toward microwaves at the moment. 

Cup of coffee finally acquired, Gavin makes his way back to his desk, noting that Connor is back at his as well, once again doing that weird mind meld thing with his computer. He wonders how many files Connor can download and sort through in a minute like that, or if he works at a normal pace and just does that because he prefers it to typing. While Gavin _could_ always just ask, he could also just not do that and stare at the android awkwardly from his seat while he downs a fistfull of Tylenol and chases it with way-too-hot coffee and almost gives his mouth and throat third degree fucking burns. 

“Jesus-titty-fucking-christ.” He nearly drops the coffee cup, haphazardly setting it off to the side as he shoots out of his chair, his back screaming in protest to the action, but this is the kind of pain that he can only deal with if he is pacing rapidly back and forth and cussing out every biblical figure he can remember from his short time of being brought up in Catholicism. “For the love of all that is fucking holy and pure and untainted in this god-forsaken suffer orb we call a fucking planet, who the hell set the fucking temperature on the coffee machine to _earth’s molten core_.” 

He hears a familiar snort, and turns to see that Connor is no longer One With The PC, and is instead watching Gavin have an emotional breakdown over the only constant in his life suddenly betraying him. 

“You can shut your fuck right now, you fucking Dial-Up Modem. I was already having a shit day and now my mouth is being slow roasted in the pits of hell. Be thankful you don’t have nerve endings.” 

Connor looks less than impressed with the creative insults, and Gavin feels less than thrilled with himself for having said them, although they were kind of really funny. In his defense, though, he is literally dying. “It would be pretty morbid if I had human nerve endings in my body, yes. But I do have pressure sensors that allow for me to feel in a very similar way to humans, so…” Connor makes a gesture with his hand that very much means ‘go fuck yourself’ even though his middle finger never makes a solo appearance, and Gavin is mildly impressed by the talent it takes to get the point across without flipping him off. 

“Right. Advanced prototype.” Connor nods and Gavin’s mouth hurts a lot. “You want some coffee?”

Connor rolls his eyes, shaking his head and Gavin thinks he might see a little bit of an upturn to the corners of his mouth. 

There’s a beat of silence, and Gavin is half tempted to keep the conversation rolling, but his back aches and his mouth is going numb and he thinks he might feel the roof of his mouth peeling already, so he does the responsible thing and sticks his tongue out at Connor before returning to his desk, actually managing to keep in his moans of agony as he curls up in his seat once more. 

Thankfully, the irresponsible amount of Tylenol he had taken doesn’t take long to kick in, and his aches and pains fall to the wayside as he continues to drink his, thankfully much cooler, coffee. He writes up a few more reports, texts Tina about Bathroom the cat and plans to go drinking on Friday, even though they both have to work the next day, and basically just kills time until he finally sees the numbers on the clock tick over to five o’clock. 

He grabs his shit, makes a coffee to-go, and clocks the fuck out as soon as he can. He’s actually really worried that Yardstick might’ve gotten her paw stuck under the bathroom door, and he doesn’t want to change her name if she needs to get a second leg amputated. 

Fortunately, when he gets home Yardstick isn’t stuck anywhere, she’s curled up by the bathroom door asleep, tail flitting back and forth idly as a little black paw juts out and swings at it through the crack. Gavin huffs a quiet laugh at the unexpected scene before him, and takes a video of it, immediately sending it to Tina, who responds with her own video of her dogs balancing treats on their noses. While it’s impressive, he doesn’t think it’s as cute as his cats. 

He gently scoots Yardstick away from the door, opening it up and letting Bathroom out of the room she’s named after. The scrawny black cat blinks and takes in the sudden expansion of her surroundings for a moment before locking eyes with Yardstick, and then the two are taking off through the apartment, tackling each other and playing around in a way that makes Gavin regret not getting a second cat sooner. It melts a little of the ice off his heart to see the two so happy to have each other to play with and cuddle. And also now he can move Yardstick’s litter box back to the bathroom where it fucking belongs. 

He fills the cats’ food dishes, laughing whenever they come running at the sound. He gives Bathroom a little extra, worried about how skinny she is after living a hard life on the streets. Now that she’s a little more acclimated to her home, Gavin makes her a vet appointment, yet another excuse to leave work ~~early~~ on time. 

The rest of Gavin’s night is spent recovering from falling asleep on the bathroom floor the night before. He looks up some stretches to do, and nearly dies of agony in the process of performing them, finally gets the hot shower he’d wanted earlier in the morning, and actually goes to sleep in his _bed_ instead of on the couch for once in his goddamn life. All in all, he actually wakes up feeling kinda not like a dying piece of shit in the morning. 

He does, however, wake up at _three fucking a.m._ He wants to light himself on fire when he sees the time, he’s not even sure if he can convince himself to get out of bed at this point. Maybe he should at least rest a little bit? He hears a distant jingle of the bell on one of his cat’s collars followed by the very distinct sound of glass shattering and the thought of any semblance of rest goes out the fucking window. He looks down at the black pile of fur resting on his chest, and of fucking course it was Yardstick dicking around at dick-all in the morning. He gently shoves Bathroom off his chest, his heart breaking when tiny mitten-shaped paws cling to his shirt as he does so. Unfortunately, he has to go make sure his other bastard child doesn’t play in the broken glass. 

He manages to cut his hand on the glass. Twice. One cut down the side of his thumb and the other across his palm because his stupid ape brain told him to try to catch the glass shard once he nearly dropped it because it cut him. He complains about it to Yardstick the whole time he’s making breakfast, and he’s almost positive she feels bad about it. Until she proceeds to knock over his coffee too. He’s so thankful that his mug didn't fucking shatter like the vase did, he's not sure if he could survive cleaning up anymore sharp objects. He supposes this is Yardstick’s way of rebelling since he’s brought a new sibling into the home. Which is bullshit, because she seemed fine with her new sister last night when they were being absolute chaotic gremlins. 

Fortunately, the coffee seemed to be the last of Yardstick’s brooding for the day, because when he got back from his morning jog, there was no added mess to the apartment. He hopes it’ll stay that way while he’s at work as well. 

Speaking of which, he can’t really find any reason _not_ to go in and get a head start on his casework for the day, so he grabs another coffee, pats his horrible demon child on the head, kisses Bathroom’s head, and leaves for work.

+-+-+

Connor isn’t there yet when he arrives, obviously, and he can’t really figure out why that bothers him. Probably because he just wants more free candy. He grabs a lollipop out of his desk drawer, tossing the rapper into the trash can by his desk and popping it in his mouth as he boots up his terminal. 

Nothing particularly _interesting_ in terms of cases has happened really, and while Gavin knows he should be thankful that there hasn’t been a serial killer or anything like that, it still sucks ass that he’s stuck going through cold case files and wrapping up murders where he gets a confession before he can even start investigating. Meanwhile Connor and Anderson are actually overworked to the point where Gavin gets why Connor basically lives at his desk. They’re still the android specialists, and now that robots are people too, the ~~deactivation~~ murder of androids is considered a serious crime. 

He’s just here because he doesn’t really have any hobbies. That and he’s gunning for Anderson’s position once the old fuck finally retires. Lieutenant Reed has a much nicer ring to it than just Detective Reed. So he sorts through files that have long since become outdated, finishing up final touches on reports that have slipped through the cracks and signing his name at the bottom of every single one so the Captain knows damn well who’s cleaning up the absolute fucking mess of paperwork that resides in the DPD’s mainframe. 

Actually, maybe it’s his dedication to all the paperwork that’s the reason behind his sudden week-long stint of desk duty. Fuck. 

He’s on his fourth cup of coffee and in the middle of a heated argument about dogs VS cats Vs babies in his group chat with Tina and Chris whenever Connor arrives, grumpy old man in tow. Checking the time tells Gavin that Connor actually didn’t come in until 8 o’clock like a normal person today, which is pretty unusual, but then again, maybe he just had plans with Lieutenant Whisky Breath to get breakfast. Do… Do androids eat? He’s never seen Connor eat, but he could’ve just missed it. Or maybe Connor’s like him and survives on a diet of Fritos and coffee when he’s at work. Although he’s never seen Connor drink anything either… Huh. 

He’d just ask, but he’s still trying not to initiate any conversation with Connor if he can help it. That and Connor and Anderson seem to be in the middle of a pretty intense conversation, if the flashing yellow of Connor’s LED is anything to go by. Gavin also wonders why Connor never removed his LED to appear more human. Is that a rude thing to ask an android? Is it like asking someone their weight? This is why Gavin just doesn’t fucking talk to them. He’s nicer when he keeps his mouth shut, so that’s what he does. He puts in his earbuds so he doesn’t accidentally listen in to Connor’s conversation, already feeling like he knows too much from seeing the almost angry yellow of the android’s LED pulsing on his temple. 

He’s so focused on minding his own business, that he almost doesn’t notice whenever Tina arrives. At least he doesn’t until she pushes a bunch of his shit off the desk, throwing out old notes and files and knocking over a cup of pens to make room for her ass as she hops up and sits on the corner, swinging her legs. Her lips move, obviously saying something, but Gavin can’t hear her, he’s got his airpods in. He relays this information, earning himself a smack over the head hard enough to knock one of them out in response. 

“Anyways, so Chris said he’s sick of babysitting our drunk asses and he wants to be a drunk ass for once,” Tina continues right where she left off, mercilessly leaving Gavin to pick up the pieces of information he’s missed as he stops his music and takes out his other earbud, “And _I’m_ sure as shit not gonna be sober after the fucking week I had. Do you wanna know how many Iced up scumbags tried to feel me up while I was shoving them into the back of my squad car this week? Too fucking many. So either it’s your turn to DD, or we gotta find another babysitter. Suz says she’s not doing it, because the last time she did we both convinced her to take us to Taco Bell and then she was scrubbing Baja Blast Freezes out of the upholstery all next day and she doesn’t trust herself to resist our puppy eyes.” 

Gavin’s brain doesn’t catch up until about half way through Tina’s rant, and whenever it finally does he checks right the fuck back out. “I’m not gonna be the sober one, fuck that. I’ll just drink at home with my cats like a goddamn adult.” 

Tina stifles a laugh at the statement, then pouts, kicking Gavin’s chair petulantly. “Nooooo, it won’t be fun without you and your grumpy ass. What if I promise to pay for you the next time we go out?” 

“Hmmmm.” Gavin pretends to think about it, but really he’s not really one to go out anyways, and if he has to do it sober, no amount of money will force him into it. “No.” 

“Gavvyyyyyyyy.” 

“Bitch I said what I said.” He shoves at Tina’s thigh with his boot, trying to kick her off his desk. She doesn’t budge. 

“Bitch, then I’ll just drink at your place and crash on the couch.” 

“That’s fine.” 

“Wait really?” Tina’s eyes are wide, like Gavin has just revealed the seven secret herbs and spices in KFC’s chicken to her. 

“Yeah, really. Chris and Suz can come too. I’ve got a guest room and a big ass couch. You and Suz can have the guest room, Chris can take the couch. Bring your own booze, don’t drunkenly step on my cats.” Honestly, Gavin’s looking forward to Friday a lot more now than he was when their plan was to go bar hopping. He can be in the comfort of his own home with his friends and pass out in his own bathtub when he gets too shitfaced to stand straight. Why didn’t he think of this sooner?

“Can we make a blanket fort?” 

“That’s the dumbest thing anyone’s ever fucking asked me.” Gavin crosses his arms, glaring at Tina in disappointment. “Of course we’re making a fucking blanket fort.”

“Fuck yeah.” Tina’s radio crackles with a muffled request and she checks the time, wincing, her break clearly over. She removes herself from Gavin’s desk, confirming into the radio her inevitable return to the field and ruffling his hair before bounding back off into the wildlands of Detroit. 

What a fucking nutcase. If anything ever happened to her he would kill everyone in the department and then himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know gavin said shut your fuck, i made him say that, its a thing that i say in real life and now he says it too. your feedback makes me update faster. feed me ur love and support. <3


	3. What That Mouth Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scooby Gang is back at it again with another mystery to solve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i now officially have enough chapters of this bih saved up to be comfortable sharing an update schedule with yall so this fic will officially update on mondays (usually as soon as sunday tics over to midnight est)

Connor corners him in the break-room when he’s getting his fifth cup of coffee for the day. Well, it’s actually pretty impossible to be cornered in the break-room considering it’s in full view of the entire bullpen and it has a giant arching entryway with no door, but Connor is there and in front of him and he’s sure it’d be a dick move to just shove past him (like he’s done in the past). So he looks at Connor expectantly while taking small, careful sips of his coffee after learning his lesson from the day before. The roof of his mouth still feels like it's falling apart. 

Connor goes about making his own coffee, keeping Gavin pinned down on the side of him where the door isn’t. “It’s for Hank,” The android says when he notices Gavin’s curious stare. So androids either don’t drink coffee, or Connor specifically doesn’t. Gavin makes a mental note of that for literally no reason other than because he feels like it. The android doesn’t add any sugar to the coffee, and Gavin wonders if Connor is making it his own personal mission to get everyone in the office onto the keto diet. “You really have no sense of self preservation, do you Detective?” Connor gestures to the cup of coffee in his hand and Gavin can’t help but glare at him in return. 

“Listen, Apple Pencil, we went over this already. I gotta stop smoking before we work on the sugar and caffeine intake. Your lollipops didn’t magically cure my addiction in a day, thanks for those by the way. And besides, if you ask anyone in here, they’ll vouch for the fact that taking away my coffee is the worst mistake you’ll ever make.” So what if he drank four cups already and it’s only- he checks his watch- nine a.m.? He’s been up since three. He deserves this. Even if it makes his heart beat in his eyes and gives him the ability to hear other people’s thoughts. 

Connor’s mouth is upturned in a soft, amused smile as he taps his fingers on the counter-top, waiting for Gavin to finish his rant. “I am aware of that, detective. I was present for the decaf fiasco last month. But I was actually referring to your hand, not what you’re holding. First you all but limp into the building yesterday, drink coffee at approximately 171 degrees Fahrenheit, effectively scalding your mouth, and now you appear to have injured yourself further since then. What happened?” 

“Oh.” He blinks at Connor stupidly for a moment, his face heating up in embarrassment. He really needs to stop assuming shit. God, Tina’s gonna laugh her ass off when he inevitably whines about this fucking catastrophe to her later. “Cut it on some broken glass that my dumbass cat knocked over. Well, it used to be a vase, but then it became broken glass. I don’t just have broken glass sitting around, that’d be fucking stupid. Especially with two cats in the house.” 

“I thought you only had one cat?” Connor questions, switching his cup of coffee to his other hand so he can reach into his pocket and pull out that damned coin of his, like this conversation isn’t enough to keep him entertained. 

Gavin’s eyes fixate on the coin as Connor effortlessly walks it over his knuckles, almost like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. “Yeah, I just got a new one two days ago, actually. Ended up falling asleep in the fucking bathroom because of her the night before last, hence the limp and desperate hot coffee drinking and how the fuck did you know I have a cat?” His brain suddenly catches up with him halfway through his sentence, and his mind instantly derails from what was about to be a long-winded ramble about Bathroom the cat and turns it into an accusing question. He’s never mentioned his cat to Connor. Hell, he only just recently started having nice conversations with Connor, and now he’s regretting it because apparently the android has already started stalking him. 

At the very least, Connor has the decency to look a little embarrassed, his fingers stopping their graceful movement as he palms his coin. “You, uh, have cat hairs on your clothes. Egyptian Mau.” 

Gavin eyes Connor suspiciously, wondering what else Connor can tell about him just by staring. “Did you analyze the cat hairs on my clothes before or after you became a real boy?” 

“Before my deviancy, I analyzed any and every detail I could find pertaining to people that I’d have to deal with daily in order to gain their trust, or even to use the information against them.” And holy shit, that’s terrifying. And a little bit of an overshare, but Gavin figures if Connor knows so much about him, then he should know about Connor. “Now, however, I’m well aware of what an invasion of privacy it is. I avoid doing it unless it’s for an investigation.” 

“That’s a really long winded way of saying it was before.” Gavin can’t help but snark back, taking another sip of his coffee. 

“Sorry, let me correct myself. It was before.” The coin is back, dancing across Connor’s fingers as he smirks at Gavin. 

“Alright Mr. Fucking Sassypants, I was just saying. Jesus.” He takes another sip of his coffee, watching as someone walks into the doorway, sees him and Connor, then promptly turns around and leaves. He’s not sure if they were just afraid of coming into contact with the precinct’s desk-goblins or if they were expecting some kind of huge confrontation to be taking place between him and Connor, but either way he’s glad for the privacy his reputation gives him. “What else do you know about me?”

“I know you now own two cats.” And Gavin knows a fucking dodge when he hears it, but he lets it slide because he’s not entirely sure if he wanted to hear an actual answer in the first place. “I like cats, what are their names?” 

Fuck, now Connor’s gone and done it. He’s said the code words that activate Gavin’s sleeper agent training as a fucking unbearable pet parent. He sets his coffee down on the counter, pulling out his phone and pulling up his photo gallery that consists entirely of cat pictures and the very rare drunken photo with Tina. “Their names are Yardstick and Bathroom and they’re gremlins.” He pulls up the video he took of Bathroom playing with Yardstick’s tail and hands his phone over to Connor to see. 

The android blinks at him for a second, looks at the phone being offered to him, then pockets his coin and takes it, almost like he _wasn’t_ expecting to be forced to look at Gavin’s babies after having the audacity to ask about them. Gavin feels oddly proud of himself for the smile that plays on Connor’s lips as he watches the video. 

“I have to ask, though. Bathroom and Yardstick?” Connor asks, handing Gavin his phone back. 

Gavin responds with a shrug. “Yardstick’s only got three feet,” Connor snorts, “And Bathroom made me fall asleep in the bathroom.” 

“And here I thought your nicknames for me were derogatory, but as it turns out I don’t have it that bad.” 

Gavin internally winces a little at that, because the ‘nicknames’ used to be insults, but now they really are just nicknames. He can’t help it. He’s a nightmare. 

“Hey, insults are how you know I like you. You should hear the shit I call Tina.” Before they changed their contacts for each other to match like fucking losers, he had her saved in his phone as Feral Rat with, like, five knife emojis. 

It’s at this moment that Anderson walks in, talking over whatever Connor’s response was (although Gavin is at least eighty percent sure he heard the word ‘bromance’). “Connor, you get lost or someth-” Anderson’s eyes focus on Gavin and immediately narrow. Gavin is suddenly less happy about his reputation preceding him. “The fuck you doin’, Reed?” 

“We’re talking about pussy.” He flashes his best shit-eating grin at the Lieutenant, not in the mood to explain himself. He knows that he’s not on Connor’s babysitter’s nice list, and he also knows damn well that he probably won’t make it on there anytime soon regardless of how nice he is to Connor. “Anyways. Gentlemen.” He nods at Connor, then Anderson before moving to leave the break-room, brushing past Connor without intentionally slamming into his shoulder for once, only to be stopped by Anderson’s fingers digging into his shoulder. 

“Listen here you little shit, I swear to all that is good and holy in this world that if you try any of the shit that you did before, you won’t live to see tomorrow.” Which, honestly, is a fair threat. 

Jerking out of Anderson’s bruising grip, Gavin throws him a mock-salute as he walks backwards towards his desk. “I’ll hold you to it, old man.” Connor’s right, he really has no sense of self preservation.

-+-+-

He finally gets a real fucking case. Like the kind of case where he actually gets to leave his desk and go to the crime scene and there’s evidence and mystery and holy shit he’s excited that someone fucking died, he’s such a bad fucking person. Still. Crime. Yay. 

He arrives at the scene around noon, which is always a weird and off putting time to arrive at a murder scene for Gavin. Bodies in broad daylight are just somehow more horrific, like crimes are meant to be contained to the night and somehow one of them leaked through and tainted the sanctity of the sun. He puts on a pair of gloves and gets down to work. 

The body is sitting out in a public park, resting on a bench upright like it’s just chilling and not a fucking corpse. They can’t get an ID on the body. The molars have been removed, so dental records are out, the fingerprints are burnt off, and they’re not having any luck with facial recognition. The guy was a ghost even before he died, apparently. 

They have the entire park closed down and taped off, double the usual crew scouring the grounds as an impending forecast of a storm that night threatens to wash away any possible evidence. Whoever wanted this man dead knew damn well what they were doing, and Gavin’s excitement at getting to leave his desk is quickly turning to dread that this case will run cold before he even has a chance to take a crack at it. There’s no way Fowler would leave him stranded in the center of all of this as the lone detective, not with five miles of greenery and zero leads. He texts Tina to see if she’ll feed his cats tonight.

Almost on cue, a car door slams shut, and Gavin nearly drops his phone as he’s startled out of his thoughts by the heavenly voice of none other than _the_ Lieutenant Hank Anderson himself. “All I’m saying is, if you’re gonna put weird shit in your mouth, at least make sure I’m not around before you do it.” 

“Hank, this is a time-sensitive investigation. I’m going to put shit in my mouth the moment I find it, regardless of your comfort levels and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” 

Gavin is fucking shaking. 

“You’re going to fucking do _what_ , Airpod?” 

Connor’s eyes are elsewhere as he responds, already surveying the scene while he and Anderson join him. “Hank finds the way I analyze evidence to be off putting and insists I do it privately.” 

Anderson grimaces, smacking Connor on the back. “I _insist_ you don’t do it at all.” 

“Okay, but hol’ up.” Gavin pockets his phone, noting Tina’s affirmative response to feeding his garbage children their dinner time kibbies. “Just-” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to process exactly what the fuck he just heard as he holds his hands in front of him like that’ll stop this situation from getting any weirder. “You’re telling me. You analyze evidence. By eating it?” 

“Well, no,” Connor responds, tilting his head to the side as Gavin becomes increasingly stressed as to why the fuck Connor needs to eat the evidence if it’s not to analyze it. “I just need to ‘taste’ it.” Connor crooks his fingers in little air-quotes around the word ‘taste.’ 

“Did you eat my cat’s hair?” He’s honestly three seconds away from saying fuck it and taking sick leave for the rest of the year. 

“No, I did not eat your cat’s hair. I usually only have to orally analyze fluids such as blood, thirium, sem-”

“Shut _the_ **fuck** UP.” Gavin nearly fucking screams at the same time Anderson says pretty much the same thing but without the fuck word. “Just- Just go see if you can get any ID on our stiff, okay?” 

Connor, the little shit, has the audacity to look _smug_ like he fucking knew what he was saying the whole-ass time. Gavin’s beginning to wonder if Connor really does just lack social grace, or if the android is a fucking mastermind of uncomfortable situations. 

“I feel like I need to call my mom and apologize that she gave birth to me only for my life to be entirely destroyed by this exact moment.” 

“Tell her I’m sorry you were born too.” Gavin chokes on his fucking tongue at Anderson’s comeback, barely managing an offended ‘fuck you’ as the man heads over to join Connor beside the body. 

He’s not going to survive this goddamn investigation. 

Taking a deep breath to center himself, Gavin sends off another text to Tina to start making his funeral plans before joining Big Anderson and Baby Anderson on the investigation. “You get an ID, USB?” He can feel Hank’s glare on the side of his face, clearly not amused that Gavin still has more random electronic devices to call Connor instead of his real name. 

Connor, however, takes in stride, just shaking his head in response to Gavin’s question. “None, this man has no criminal record, no social media, no passport. Nothing.” 

“What, you're not gonna lick him just to double check?” 

Aaaand now Connor’s glaring at him. “No, I’m not going to lick the dead body, Detective Reed.” 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, not bothering to conceal the smirk on his face. “Alright, shit, just double-checking.” 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to search the immediate area for things that I _can_ lick.” 

“You have fun with that, man.” Gavin watches as Connor calmly scans the area, his movements less human and more robotic and methodical than anything. He still can’t really get used to some of the android’s more… android-like features. 

Still, he’s here for a reason, and time is ticking down. He’s fucked around enough for one day. “Okay, Anderson, while your hatchling is eating dirt you should go join the efforts to comb the area for clues. The more eyes the better, and they’ll need someone who actually knows what the fuck to look for out there.” 

The Lieutenant looks less than pleased at the order, crossing his arms and staring Gavin down. “Don’t forget, kid, I’m your superior. _I_ tell _you_ what to do.” 

“I was assigned this case first, meaning I’m the lead here. Besides, I gave you a compliment, don’t take that shit for granted, I only hand out, like, three of those a year.” He glances back at the body, unseeing eyes staring off into eternity. “Besides, there’s something here that’s not sitting right with me, otherwise I’d just go do it myself.” 

“Really, you’re calling ‘first’ on a case?” Anderson looks at Gavin incredulously and Gavin matches his stare with an annoyed one of his own. After a beat, the Lieutenant blinks. “Fine, but only because you’re right about those search party assholes not knowing shit.” 

“Thank youuuu.” Gavin calls after him, blowing a kiss in his direction. He gets flipped off for his efforts. 

Once again, Gavin finds himself alone with the corpse, a prickle of unease crawling up his spine. If it weren’t for the fact that the guy wasn’t breathing, he would almost still look alive. “What’re you looking at, prick?” Suddenly, what’s been bothering Gavin clicks in his head. 

“Fuck. Connor, get over here.” The android is at his side in a minute, an unformed question on his lips, but Gavin is talking again before he can ask it. “The body is sitting upright.” 

Confusion. “Yes, detective. I’ve noticed.” 

“How fucking hard do you think it was to get it to stay in that position before rigor mortis set in? And if it was moved post rigor, imagine how hard it was to bend it’s joints.” 

Realization dawns in Connor’s eyes, and Gavin feels something unravel in his chest at the sight of such a human reaction coming from something supposedly so fake. “So you don’t think the position the body was found in isn’t just careful placement as a result of guilt or some kind of sick joke?”

Gavin shakes his head, looking out in the direction the corpse is facing. “I think it’s a message. Can you trace the trajectory of where his eyes are pointing?”

And Connor is already on it, walking a straight line from the corpse into the center of the park as Gavin follows close behind. They walk long enough that Gavin starts to question his theory, the dread of a dead end already creeping up on him as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Still, Connor keeps moving until they reach the boundary of the park, the greenery suddenly cut off by concrete and asphalt. 

“Fuck.” Gavin groans, glaring out at the plaza that borders the park as if it was the thing that killed their guy. He was so sure he was onto something. “You don’t think our stiff was just enjoying the view of the statue, do you?” He nods to the modern art piece in the center of the plaza.

“Why don’t we go check it out and see?” Gavin raises an eyebrow at Connor’s response. He had been joking about the statue, in all honesty. He’d already given up on the eyeline idea, figuring that Connor was right about the body just being placed in such a lively position as a sick joke. But Connor seems to have even more faith in Gavin than Gavin does. 

He follows behind the android as they cross the street into the plaza, approaching the statue and eyeing it up with no real idea as to what he’s looking for. 

“You were right.” 

He was what now? “I was what now?” 

Connor is crouching by the base of the statue, gesturing to the beaten concrete it sits on. “The statue has been moved. Recently, too.” His fingers trace over chipped and scuffed concrete, brow furrowed. 

“So you think our guy moved a statue. I hate to break it to you, but that sounds extremely fucking unlikely. It was probably moved for construction or something.” 

“There hasn’t been any recent construction in the area, and this statue has remained unmoved since it replaced a rather demeaning statue toward androids.” Connor looked pointedly at Gavin. 

“Okay,” Gavin takes his hands out of his pockets, waving them in front of him as he talks. “So, say for whatever reason, this is what we were supposed to find. What kind of message is a statue being moved slightly to the left? All this tells me, is that we’re either dealing with multiple perps, or one super perp capable of moving a fucking marble statue.” 

“They moved it back.” 

“They what?”

“It’s not slightly to the left, it’s exactly where it should be.” 

Gavin eyes Connor up out of his periphery, “How can you even tell that?” 

“It’s perfectly centered in the plaza.” Connor gestures around them, like Gavin’s an idiot for not noticing. 

“It could’ve just been moved once into the center,” Gavin argues back.

“The markings on the concrete are consistent with the statue being moved more than once.” 

“Oh my god can we just look under this fucking thing already?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Connor looks smug, happy to have gotten his way. Honestly, Gavin didn’t doubt for a second that the android’s analysis of the statue was right, he just likes being a little shit. 

Gavin calls in to the team with his and Connor’s findings, and they’re promised to have the machinery to lift the statue off the ground, hopefully without damaging any evidence, by the next day. “By the way, Hairless Furby,” Connor glares at him and he continues talking, pretending not to notice but feeling very pleased with himself. “Did you get any fingerprints?” 

“Yes. Over a hundred partial prints are on the statue, far too many to be of any use.” Connor shakes his head, almost looking guilty for not being able to single out the bad guys off of the information. 

“Damn.” Gavin shoves his hands in his pockets once more, turning to head back the way they came. “Whatchu think the chances are that we move the statue and it’s the bad guys’ names and addresses?” 

Connor snorts at that, perfectly timed with the rumble of thunder overhead. “Slim, detective. Very slim.” 

“Yeah, well. A boy can dream.” He nods to an officer that walks past them with caution markers, clearly the guy who drew the short straw on having to cordon off the area around the statue and risk getting caught out in the rain. “Hope they’ve already bagged up the stiff, it’ll be pretty fuckin’ hard for forensics to work with a waterlogged corpse.” 

“I have faith in our coworkers’ capabilities.” And now it’s Gavin’s turn to laugh. 

“Dude, you literally had to put out a fire in the microwave because one of them blew it up.”

Connor nods morosely. “It was quite upsetting to lose one of my brothers in the line of duty like that.” 

Gavin laughs so fucking hard he chokes on his own spit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i edited out the double spaces between paragraphs because i think they made it look very aesthetically unpleasing and kinda like i was trying to make the chapters look longer than they are so,,, yeah. 
> 
> <3


	4. Just Buy A Goddamn Umbrella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor likes cats, Gavin is entirely too gay to function.

The rain is coming down hard and relentless by the time Gavin gets back to the precinct. He’s soaked through his jacket and hoodie from going store to store around the radius of the park and questioning the owners about any suspicious activity. He doesn’t even know why he fucking bothered, he got the exact answers he was expecting. No one saw anything, no one wanted to cooperate. He has to get warrants for any and every security and traffic camera located near the park. It’s late, it’s dark, it’s raining, he’s soaked, and he’s been up since three in the fucking morning. He just wants to go home. 

But, he needs to get his thoughts in order and typed up before he leaves, because he won’t be able to sleep otherwise, too afraid he’ll forget something once his brain turns off. He may as well send off the warrant requests while he’s at it, get ahead of the game so he can hit the ground running tomorrow. He strips off his jacket and hoodie, leaving him shivering in the air conditioning of the bullpen in nothing but a t-shirt. He logs into his terminal and gets to work. 

By the time he’s finished his last request, he’s pretty sure his typing is damn near indecipherable, he can hardly keep his eyes open, and he’s pretty sure he’s caught the beginnings of a cold if his scratchy throat is anything to go by. He stands up, cracking his back with a satisfied groan and glances around the bullpen, noticing Connor is still hard at work at his own desk. “Hey, R2D2. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Do android’s even need sleep? 

Connor doesn’t even glance up from his screen, and if Gavin didn’t know any better, he’d say the ‘droid looks almost dazed. “I’ll go into stasis shortly.” 

Huh. So androids… do whatever that is. Probably similar enough to sleep, since Connor got what he meant. “Yeah, why don’t you do that at home instead of face down on your desk?” 

“I’d prefer to stay out of the rain for the night.” Connor responds idly, still not removing his eyes from the screen in front of him. 

“Then use an umbrella? You’re really gonna stay here overnight because you don’t wanna get wet on your way home?” Connor finally looks up at him and they make eye contact. The android looks tired, far more tired than a machine has any fucking right to be. There’s something else there too, something like resignation, like he’s finally been caught doing something wrong and he knows he has no way out of it. 

They don’t break eye contact. Connor says nothing. 

He’d prefer to stay out of the rain for the night. The night. As in, the entire night. Not just for a little bit until he gets home. Gavin feels something heavy settle in the pit of his gut. “Connor. Where do you live?” Because up until now he had assumed Anderson had taken the precinct’s token android home with him, but now… 

“Androids don’t have the same basic needs as humans, Detective.” 

“That’s cool and all, but it’s not what I asked.” Gavin pushes, and Connor looks even more tired. 

“I stay at the precinct when the weather is bad.” He’s gonna beat the shit out of Anderson. And Fowler. And then he’s going to beat his head against the wall because he also deserves to get the shit kicked out of him for not noticing this sooner. 

“And where do you stay when it’s not bad?”

“Androids don’t require the space that humans do-”

“Shut,” Gavin holds up a finger, stopping Connor’s bullshit answer in its tracks. “The fuck. Up. Get your shit and let’s go.” 

“I don’t understand.” But Connor does as he’s told, logging out of his terminal and grabbing the jacket he has draped over the back of his chair, waiting for further instructions like a lost puppy. 

“You’re staying at my place. I’ve got an extra bed and you need to sleep somewhere that’s not here.” Gavin shrugs, like the answer’s obvious. 

Connor’s eyes bug out, like he somehow didn’t see this coming in all of his preconstructions and analyzing and probably also voodoo. Gavin tries not to take any offense to that. “I don’t need a bed, I’ll be fine, Detective.”

“You got me fucked up if you think I’m gonna just prop you up in the corner while you go into standby, okay? I have an extra bed, so you get the extra bed. Let’s go.” Gavin gestures for Connor to follow him with his head. Connor doesn’t move. 

Gavin heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can see my cats?” He tries once more to convince the android. 

“I like cats.” Connor mumbles quietly, almost to himself. 

“Yeah, I’ve fucking noticed. Come on.” And this time, Connor follows him. 

+-+-+

It’s entirely too quiet in the car for Gavin’s liking. Normally he’d be cranking the music and singing along, but, well. Connor. So the music is turned down and Connor doesn’t seem much in the mood for talking as he twirls his coin across his fingers, his eyes focused out the passenger window. 

Gavin jerks the steering wheel a little, and the coin in Connor’s hands falls to the floor. If there’s one thing that Gavin knows how to do, it’s how to break tension by being an asshole. Connor looks over to him, eyebrows drawn together and he just smirks in response. 

“Was that really necessary?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“If you’re just taking me home with you to harass me, I’d like you to let me out of the car now.” Connor reaches down, picking up the coin and holding it between his thumb and forefinger, refusing to pocket it yet. 

“Listen, Kindle Fire, I’m not gonna  _ harass  _ you. I’m gonna act like myself around you. Unfortunately for you, I happen to be an asshole.” Gavin shrugs, trying to watch Connor out of his peripheral while still keeping his eyes on the road. 

“I hadn’t noticed.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be a high-end detective prototype model? Might wanna get checked for malware. You been watching any weird porn in your mind computer lately?” He sees Connor roll his eyes, but he doesn’t miss the small smile playing on the android’s lips either. He’s so fucking good at breaking the tension. 

They arrive at Gavin’s apartment complex a few minutes later, rain still coming down hard and Gavin has to park further away than he’d like because of the late hour he’s getting home. All the good spots have already been taken by normal people with regular work schedules. 

“Okay, on the count of three we make a mad dash for the door, got it?” Gavin slips off his seat belt, looking to Connor for confirmation. 

Connor looks less than eager to sprint out on Gavin’s command, undoing his own seat belt as well. “Studies show that no matter how fast you run in the rain, you can only avoid a maximum of ten percent of the precipitation. Besides, we’re already soaked, Detective.” 

“Okay, but, hear me out, it’ll be more fun if we do the thing I said.” Gavin rests his hand on the door handle. “You ready?”

Connor rolls his eyes again and Gavin wonders if they’ll come loose if the android does it too much. Still, he puts his hand on the door handle and nods. “Ready.” 

“Three,” He braces his right foot against the center console of the car to push himself out faster. “Two,” He tugs on the door handle, not quite pushing the door open yet. “ONE!” He throws open his door in unison with Connor, sprinting towards the entrance to his apartment complex while holding his jacket over his head. He gets inside just ahead of Connor, boots sliding on the tile floor of the lobby and nearly spelling his doom. Thankfully Connor is right behind him, catching him by the waist as his feet slip out from under him. 

“Are you alright, Detective?” Connor looks down at him, arm still wrapped around his waist and the situation is so goddamn awkward that Gavin wishes that Connor would’ve just let him fall and crack his head open so he wouldn’t be alive for this moment. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or put me back on my feet?” 

“You’re actually the worst.” Connor helps Gavin get himself upright before finally releasing his- frankly iron-tight- grip on his waist. 

“We’ve established this at least three times already since Monday. I know I am. You wanna meet my cats or what?” He leads Connor through the lobby, not waiting for an answer. He takes the elevator for once instead of the stairs, because he’s fucking tired and hes not trying to slip and actually die next time. 

They make it to his apartment without any more incidents, and Gavin is happy to be home so he can change into something warm and not soaking wet. He pauses, keys still in the door. “Do you have anything to wear other than that?” 

Connor grimaces, looking a little sheepish. “No. Well, yes. But not with me at the moment.” 

“I’ll get you something. Feel free to use the shower if you want, I dunno if androids really need to shower, but well, you probably do. I mean, have you seen the shit we deal with at work? I had to pull a perp out of a dumpster once. Even if you don't sweat, you’d need a shower after that shit.” Gavin rambles as he opens his front door, wandering inside and noting that his cat’s food dishes are still partially full. He’ll have to remember to thank Tina later. He’s halfway in the kitchen, turning to find Connor still standing in the doorway, scanning the apartment like he does crime scenes. 

“Are you coming in?” Connor startles at that, his cheeks tinting blue in a weird android version of a blush (which Gavin did not know was possible, but is now adding that to his weird android facts list) as he finally steps inside, closing the door behind him. 

“Your apartment is very…” Connor pauses for a moment, obviously trying to find an adjective that isn’t offensive. “You.” And somehow that’s the most offensive word he could’ve chosen. 

“So it looks like a trash fire?” Gavin asks from the kitchen, his head in his fridge as he roots for a suitable snack. Still, he can hear Connor snort as his joke, and he adds another personal victory to his tally list. 

“Yes, entirely.” 

Gavin resurfaces with his mouth full of grapes, the bag in his hands and his words muffled. “Shicc, sho da guess oom ish-” He pauses to actually eat the fucking grapes. “Sorry. The guest room is down the hall, last door on the left, bathroom is the first door on the left. Yardstick is probably in the guest room, because she thinks it’s her room. Bathroom is either in the, you guessed it, bathroom, or she’s in my room. You can go in there just don’t go through my shit. Don’t eat any of it either.” He grabs another handful of grapes, kicking the fridge door shut as he stuffs them in his mouth. 

“Thank you, I think I’ll take you up on your offer of a shower.” Connor nods, glancing around awkwardly one more time before he starts to walk towards the hall. 

“Worh, I’ll gwahb yuh cklothesh.” Gavin nods at Connor as he leaves the room, continuing his grape massacre as he hears the bathroom door shut. 

Once he’s satisfied with his snack (He ate all the grapes, okay? They’re gone now.), Gavin heads to his own room to change into clothes that aren’t wet and gross. Bathroom is curled up on his pillow, watching him with sleepy eyes as he struggles out of his wet jeans and into a soft pair of joggers and switches out his usual multi-layer look of jackets on jackets on jackets for just a sleeveless shirt. 

With that done, he digs through his drawers to find something for Connor to wear. He grabs a pair of mesh shorts, because as much as he wishes he had legs for days like Connor, he just doesn’t, and a pair of his pants would only go down to like midway on Connor’s ankles. He also picks a worn, but soft t-shirt, folding the items and leaving them outside the bathroom door for Connor whenever he’s done showering. Almost instantly, Yardstick materializes out of the guest room, planting herself firmly on the pile of clothes. Gavin can’t help but smile, leaning down to scratch behind her ears. “Good girl.”

Yardstick responds with a sweet purr, stretching out on the clothes and leaning into Gavin’s hand. “Don’t think this means I forgive you for this morning, though. My hand still hurts like a bitch.” Yardstick simply stares at him with squinted eyes, bumping her nose against his hand. “Okay, so maybe I do. Fucking gremlin.” 

It’s at this exact moment that the door opens, revealing Connor in all his steamy, damp from the shower glory, perfect hair tousled and curled wildly over his forehead while he clings to a towel that’s barely hanging off his waist. And Gavin just so happens to be crouched down at exactly dick-height, staring up at him. No one told Cyberlife to build the deviant murder bot with abs. Why did they give him abs? Who did that? That’s so fucking unfair, holy fucking shit, Gavin is going to hunt that person down and beat them to death. Not even most male Traci models have bodies that tight, not like he was ever checking them out in the Eden club when he was supposed to be working that one deviant case with Connor and Hank. 

He should probably stand up now. And stop staring. And talk with his mouth. That’s the only thing he should do with his mouth at this exact moment. Oh god why was he born this way?

“I’m guessing this is Yardstick?” Connor saves Gavin’s fucking life and speaks first, nodding down at the cat that is pawing at his hand expectantly now that he’s stopped petting her. 

Gavin nods wordlessly for a moment before finally finding his voice. “Yeah,” Okay that came out a little too high-pitched. He clears his throat. Take two. “Yeah, this is the goddess herself, taking up residence on the clothes I was trying to leave here for you.” He picks up Yardstick, tucking her under his arm as he grabs the change of clothes, standing up and holding them out to connor. 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Gavin nods. Yardstick bats at the loose tie on his joggers. 

Connor clears his throat. 

Is time supposed to move this slow? 

Jesus, this is awkward. 

Gavin literally cannot look in Connor’s eyes.

“I’m. Gonna get dressed.” Connor jerks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing into the bathroom. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you do that. Yardstick and I are gonna hang on the couch for a bit, I guess. She gets kinda pissy when we don’t watch at least one full episode of Criminal Minds, so... “ Gavin nods, trailing off awkwardly. 

“Right. You do that.” Connor echoes Gavin’s own words from earlier. 

“Right.” Yardstick sinks her claws into his upper-thigh, jolting him back to reality as he grimaces in pain. “Jesus, okay we’re going, Your Highness.” He turns away from Connor, making his way into the living room as he hears the bathroom door close behind him.

He all but falls onto the couch, startling the shit out of Yardstick and sending her scrambling out of his grip and into the kitchen. His face is on fucking fire and he resists the temptation to scream into the cushions for fear of Connor walking out at any moment and catching him. Instead he just takes a deep breath, and screams silently into the empty air of the living room. Totally normal, and way less weird than screaming into a pillow. Then, he turns on Criminal Minds, picking up on the episode he thinks comes after the one he drifted off during the other night. 

Yardstick joins him on the couch a moment later, curling up in his lap and kneading her claws on his thighs like he isn’t capable of feeling her fucking razor blades slicing into his flesh. “Ow, ow, ow.” He does nothing to stop her, though. 

He doesn’t hear the bathroom door open. He does, however, see one (1) tall android with messy hair and blue flushed skin wearing  _ his _ clothes enter the living room. 

How did this happen? When did this happen? He’s pretty sure his life was pretty fucking normal just a few days ago. Hell, he’s pretty sure he wasn’t even civil towards Connor until a few days ago. And now the android is in his apartment, wearing his clothes and staring at him with big-ass puppy eyes, and Gavin doesn’t even  _ like _ dogs that much and it's still doing something to him. 

“Bathroom is in my room, I think, if you want your own cuddle buddy. She’s a little shy at first, but she’s about as much of an attention whore as this one here.” He boops Yardstick on the nose and she mews in response. “Or you can just go to bed. Noah fence, but you do look pretty fucking wrecked.” 

Gavin is pretty sure he looks wrecked too, but sleeping isn’t exactly the kind of thing he just  _ does,  _ so he keeps running his hands down Yardstick’s spine, turning his attention back to the t.v. as Connor seems to weigh his options. 

“I think I’ll join you two for a bit, if you don’t mind.” 

Gavin just nods, then thinking better of it, he turns his attention back to Connor for a moment. “You’re not gonna point out all the flaws and inconsistencies in the show the whole-ass time, are you? That seems like a very  _ you _ thing.” 

Connor rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, and without the usual button up and jacket covering them, Gavin can see the way they flex and move like there’s real muscle there. “I’m capable of suspending my disbelief for a thirty-four year old show.” 

“Jesus, it’s that old?” 

“It originally aired in 2005, yes.” 

“I’m gonna need you to leave the room now. And don’t come back until you’ve befriended my cat. I need some time to think about my mortality.” Connor snorts, and Gavin really, really needs to remember to record one of their conversations sometime so he can have that sound on file. It’d make a really good text tone for Connor. Not that the Hijacked iPhone ever really texts him, or contacts him in any way at all, but still. 

Connor returns nearly twenty minutes later with a bundle of black fur in his arms and takes a seat on the couch next to Gavin, but like an annoyingly proper distance from him. Because Connor is still on that good boy android shit, even if he’s slowly developing some kind of personality. He even still sits almost ramrod straight, even on the couch where he should be relaxing. 

They sit in silence for a total of five seconds before Connor speaks up. “I find it odd that you’re so comfortable letting me into such a personal space like your bedroom.” 

Gavin shrugs his shoulders, his eyes leaving the screen and focusing on Connor, whose eyes are fixed entirely on Bathroom. “I dunno. I mean, I told you not to go through my shit, but like, you already said you know everything about me, so what’s the point?” 

“I said I attempted to learn everything about you, not that I succeeded.” 

Well. Fuck. “Well. Fuck. Are you still trying to learn everything about me?” 

Connor bites his lower lip, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards like he’s fighting the impulse to smile. “Yes.” 

“Then stay the fuck outta my room. I told you, no going through my shit, no eating my shit.” 

The smile finally breaks loose over his face, and Connor rolls his eyes. “I figured I’d go about it like a normal person this time, anyways.” 

“Normal people still dig through other people’s stuff if they’re big enough assholes,” Gavin points out the flaw in Connor’s statement. 

“A decent normal person, then.” 

“No decent normal person would ever want to hang around me.” 

“Are you always this difficult to talk to? And what about Officer Chen? She seems nice.” Bathroom hops from Connor’s lap into Gavin’s, stirring Yardstick from her rest and making her relocate into Connor’s lap. 

“Traitor.” Gavin mumbles under his breath at his cat before answering Connor’s question. “Tina is just better at pretending to be nice than I am. Well, she actually bothers with coming across as nice in the first place.” 

“You two are very close, it seems.” There’s something in Connor’s voice, in the way he emphasizes the word ‘very’ that gives Gavin the vibe that there’s a very big misunderstanding taking place. 

“Yeah, her and her fiance are two of the only people in the universe that can tolerate me. T and I have been friends since high-school. And her fiance, Suz, is almost as much of a nightmare as we are. If she wasn’t a lawyer and T and I weren’t cops I think we would’ve been arrested on at least seven different occasions. It’s why we usually have Chris babysit when we drink.” 

Connor’s eyebrows shoot up, like he hadn’t been expecting Gavin’s answer. Some advanced detective with mind reading abilities he is. “Oh, I hadn’t realized that Officer Chen is-”

“A raging bisexual with an equally gay fiance in a power-suit? Yeah I picked up on that.” Gavin cuts him off with a laugh. 

“In my defense, it did really appear as though you two were… a thing.” What kind of thing, Connor didn’t specify, but Gavin didn’t need him to. 

“To be fair, we did actually date once when she was in college and I was so far in the closet that I found a goat-man chilling next to a lamppost. We broke up for obvious reasons.” 

“You’re gay?” Is it Connor’s voice that sounds hopeful or is that just Gavin’s brain?

“Obviously?” Leave it to a guy who was literally programmed to be the best detective in the world to miss out on a piece of information that Gavin wasn’t even keeping a secret. “Hold on. Why are you asking me so many questions about my personal life and not telling me shit about you? This is so fucking one-sided, wait. You gotta play catch-up now, I know literally nothing about you.” 

“Fair enough.” Connor nods, leaning back into the couch cushions like he just now realized he’s supposed to be comfortable, Yardstick stretching out on his lap. “Ask away.” 

Gavin turns fully on the couch, curling his leg up on the cushion in front of him so that his knee is pressed against Connor’s thigh. “Well since you dove right into the deep end with me, I guess it’s only fair to ask you the same questions.” 

“I am not dating Officer Chen either.” 

“Get the fuck out of my apartment and never speak to me again.” Connor snorts, and Gavin can’t help but laugh too. The little shit really does have just the right kind of sense of humor that just exhausts every bone in Gavin’s body with each joke and makes him want to propose at the same time. “You know what I mean.”

“I generally prefer men, if that’s what you mean.” 

“It is what I mean.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Connor smirks at him, and as much as he wants to, Gavin can’t keep himself from mirroring the expression. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s past your bedtime.” And Gavin’s. “I’m calling it.” He shuts off the t.v. and stands up, holding Bathroom in one arm as he starts shutting off the lights in his apartment. Connor follows suit, taking Yardstick with him to the guest room. “Night!” Gavin yells after him, getting a wave over the shoulder in response. 

Once he’s settled down in his own room, Gavin pulls out his phone, sending a text (or multiple) to Tina.

**G-man:** hey

**G-man:** psst

**G-man:** tina

**G-man:** teeny

**G-man:** my waifu 4 laifu

**G-man:** pls

**G-man:** ʕ ﹒ ᴥ ﹒ ʔ

**T-man:** o my duckin godddd

**T-man:** the fuck u want at duck am in the morning butch

**T-man:** ya boi is tryna slep 

**G-man:** aw theyre so cute when theyre too tired to override autocorrect 

**G-man:** also butch lmao

**T-man:** im muting u 

**G-man:** wait

**G-man:** ill buy you a coffee from that place u like tomorrow

**T-man:** technically today but ill allow it

**T-man:** u may speak

**G-man:** i may or may not have done a thing

**T-man:** specify this thing

**G-man:** i took in another stray

**T-man:** gavin the fuc 

**T-man:** u literally just got bathroom and now you got another cat?????

**G-man:** not a cat

**T-man:** A DOG???

**T-man:** i thought my dogs were more than enough to quench ur thirst 

**G-man:** not a dog

**T-man:** gavin i stg if you just went outside and stole a pigeon

**G-man:** its an android

**G-man:** *hes

**G-man:** fuck

**T-man:** ༼( ͡⊙ ਊ ͡⊙)༽

**T-man:** wa t

**T-man:** wait so 

**T-man:** gavvy hol up 

**G-man:** he had nowhere else to go t 

**G-man:** he was gonna sleep at the station tonight to stay out of the rain and i dunno 

**G-man:** i wasnt thinking and i told him to stay w me

**T-man:** so its just for the night

**G-man:** i cant just make him go back to sleeping under a bridge or wherever the fuck

**T-man:** who are u and wat did u do with gavin reed 

**T-man:** sharing ur home w an android??? wow

**G-man:** hey ive been trying to do better 

**T-man:** if by do better u mean avoid connor like a plague 

**G-man:** yea well now hes in my guest room so thats not gonna work anymore

**T-man:** ITS CONNOR?!?

**G-man:** i thought that was obvious???

**T-man:** i figured ud help any droid BUT him

**T-man:** due to all the Unresolved Sexual Tension™

**G-man:** wat the fuck did u just say to me little man???

**T-man:** omg gavvy come on

**T-man:** ur gay

**T-man:** he has a tight ass

**T-man:** its perfect

**G-man:** you say that about literally every guy within a mile radius of me anytime we hang out

**G-man:** also wat if hes not gay

**G-man:** boom there goes ur perf match

**T-man:** o he gay

**G-man:** how do u kno???

**T-man:** cuffed dress pants ft bare ankle + loafer combo 

**G-man:** did u just cast a spell on me 

**T-man:** listen he already moved in w u now u just gotta ask him to christen the apartment w u and bing bang boom 

**G-man:** im not getting u ur coffee anymore

**T-man:** ᕙ(˵ ಠ ਊ ಠ ˵)ᕗ

**T-man:** and y the fukk not 

**G-man:** i came to u in my time of need

**G-man:** requesting friendly advice on wat to do with the nokia phone in my spare bedroom

**G-man:** and u harass me 

**T-man:** ok

**T-man:** ok listen

**G-man:** listening

**T-man:** heres wat u do

**T-man:** u take ur pee pee 

**T-man:** and u put it in him

**G-man:** blocked and reported

**T-man:** omg fiiiiine

**T-man:** heres wats up

**T-man:** u guys have been acting more friendly towards each other lately

**T-man:** dont think no ones noticed

**T-man:** y u think fowlers got u on that case together

**T-man:** let him get comfy

**T-man:** pet ur cats

**T-man:** mark his territory or watever he does

**T-man:** then ask him to halvsies on rent w u 

**G-man:** i mean

**G-man:** cheaper rent would be nice

**T-man:** the real q is what ur gonna do w him tomorrow night wen we all gettin turnt at ur place

**G-man:** that is 

**G-man:** a great question

**T-man:** can androids get drunk???

**G-man:** idk i just found out today that they can blush and its blue 

**T-man:** wild 

**T-man:** maybe on ur way home from work ask him if theres like android booze or smth u can pick up for the party

**G-man:** doubt it

**G-man:** androids barely even have basic rights yet 

**G-man:** if there is android booze its gonna be the equivalent to prison toilet wine 

**T-man:** get that boi some robot toilet wine

**T-man:** imagine drunk connor

**T-man:** i literally cant imagine him w out the stick up his ass tbh

**G-man:** i can

**G-man:** hes p chill honestly

**G-man:** can keep up with the witty bants at least

**G-man:** hasnt punched me yet

**T-man:** ok deadass who r u 

**G-man:** ok deadass leave me alone

**T-man:** fine im goin back to sleep

**T-man:** u owe me coffee bitch

**G-man:** night bitch

**T-man:** night bitch

**G-man:** (つ•̀ᴥ•́)つ*:･ﾟ✧

  
**T-man:** ╰( ⁰ ਊ ⁰ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment suggestions for nicknames gavin can use for connor and they might make it into the fic


	5. Bitch You Live Like This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you know shit do be going down when the title of the chapter is also the title of the fic

Gavin wakes up at six a.m. with a sore throat and a pounding headache. His hands are shaky and he can’t tell if it’s from caffeine or nicotine withdrawals. His phone alarm is blaring next to him, and he can barely bring himself to roll over to shut the damn thing off. He never sleeps long enough to be woken up by his alarm. He must really be dying today if he couldn’t head off the dulcet tones of Jojo Siwa’s Boomerang before they startled him out of his slumber. 

Taking a deep breath, he somehow amasses the willpower to peel himself off his mattress and get ready for the day. He decides almost immediately to skip his morning jog, he’s not sure if he could survive it with what feels like an impending cold. Or tuberculosis. Hopefully he just dies in the street, honestly. 

What he really wants is a fucking cigarette, but his throat aches at the very idea, and now that he has Connor lurking in his halls he knows he won’t get away with it. He settles for stumbling into his kitchen and making himself a pot of coffee. He has to step around Connor, who is sitting cross-legged on the floor with Yardstick and Bathroom both in his lap. That’d be why Bathroom wasn’t in his bed this morning. 

“Sup. Sorry, I usually don’t sleep this late. I feel like shit.” He grabs a bag of coffee grounds from the freezer, dancing around Connor, who doesn’t seem like he’s in a hurry to move out of the way anytime soon. 

“It’s six in the morning, Detective.”

“Yeah, and yesterday I woke up at three. This is sleeping in for me.” He shrugs, filling the coffee maker with water and turning it on. Soon he will be given the nectar of life. Soon. 

“You have some very unhealthy sleeping habits, Detective.” Connor sounds pretty confident in his criticism for a guy that Gavin could easily step on right now. 

“Yeah, and how much sleep did _ you _ get last night?” Because obviously it was less than Gavin.

“I don’t sleep, I go into stasis. It’s different.” Connor runs his hand down Yardstick’s spine, smiling at the little ‘mrrreeep’ he gets in response. 

“Yeah, and? How long?”

Connor doesn’t respond, focusing instead on the cats in his lap. 

“That’s what I thought.” He pours himself a cup of coffee, adding more sugar than usual just because he knows Connor is watching him, and whenever it looks like the android is about to say something Gavin beats him to it. “At least it’s not a cigarette.” 

“Fair enough, Detective.” 

Gavin wrinkles his nose taking a small sip of his too hot coffee. “You ever gonna stop calling me that?” 

“I don’t understand?” Connor finally looks at him instead of Yardstick, eyes squinted up in question.

“We’re not even at work right now. Besides, I find it pretty fucking rude that I go through the effort of giving you all these nice creative nicknames and all you call me is by my job title.” He leans back against the counter, crossing one arm over his chest and resting it on his bicep as he continues to sip at his coffee. 

“I think I’ll leave the creative nicknames up to you.” Connor seems less than thrilled at being called out, and Gavin is less than thrilled at the idea of always being addressed so formally in his own goddamn house. 

“Okay? I also have a name, you know.” He stares Connor down like he’s a fucking idiot. Because he’s acting like a fucking idiot. 

“Okay, Gavin.” Connor finally acquiesces, calling him by his name and oh no. Bad. Very bad. 

“Mmm. No. Ew. No.” His face pinches up and he shakes his head. “Nope. Don’t like it. Go back to the other thing.” 

Connor laughs, rolling his eyes at Gavin’s reaction. “I’m glad we could get literally nowhere in our conversation, Detective.” 

“Hm. Better.” He tips his mug at Connor in approval before downing the rest of his coffee. “I’m gonna go get a shower, then we got shit to do.” Connor hums in acknowledgement and Gavin pats his head as he walks by, smirking at the glare Connor throws at him when he does so. 

He showers for longer than usual, because he feels like shit and the steam is nice and the hot water helps soothe the pounding in his head. All good things must come to an end, however, and after his shower he must face the crushing reality that he forgot to bring a change of clothes with him to the bathroom. Part of him is tempted to sprint naked to his bedroom just to see if he can get a reaction out of Connor. The other part of him, the part that doesn’t want to show a robot his dick, is hoping that Connor is still in the kitchen petting cats so he won’t see Gavin at all. 

After drying off, he tucks his towel around his waist and opens the door, making the precarious journey to his bedroom. He almost thinks he’s made it, until he walks into his room to find Connor there, picking Bathroom the cat up off the floor. “I thought I told you not to go into my room anymore.”

“And I thought you were joking. Besides, I just came in to catch this little runaway.” Connor turns around to face him, smirk falling off his face and turning into an expression that Gavin can’t identify and isn’t sure he wants to. “I didn’t know you had so many tattoos.” 

“I have nine.” 

“I’m only counting seven.” And Gavin struggles not to crumble under Connor’s very painfully scrutinizing gaze. 

“I’m sure you can take an educated guess as to why that is.” He tugs the towel tighter around his waist. “Can I get dressed now, or what?” 

“Shit, yeah, sorry.” Connor nods, frantically walking past him out of the room, Bathroom in tow. 

“Watch your fucking language!” Gavin calls after him, shutting the door once he’s gone. 

Jesus, how many times are they gonna catch each other half naked before Gavin learns his fucking lesson? He should take Connor to get his own clothes from wherever it is that he’s keeping them. Not that he minds Connor borrowing his clothes, he just thinks that maybe they’ll avoid another Incident™ like last night’s potential accidental dick sucking thing if he doesn’t have to drop clothing parcels outside the bathroom door while Connor showers. If he’s gonna suck a dick, it’ll be on purpose. He’s not a fucking coward. 

He grabs his jacket, checking to make sure it’s dried off from the night before and then slipping it on as he opens the door to his room. “Yo, Sony Entertainment System, Let’s go.” 

“I’m not dressed yet.” Gavin walks into the kitchen as Connor responds from his spot on the couch, still playing with Gavin’s cats. That fucker really was not kidding when he said he likes cats. 

“I know. We’re gonna go get your shit so you  _ can _ get dressed.” He grabs a travel mug, filling it with coffee. 

“Can’t I just borrow your clothes again?” Gavin raises an eyebrow at the question. He’d have thought Connor would be too polite to ask for something like that. It’s fucking suspicious. 

“You can, but then you’ll be wearing my clothes.” He goes to the front door to where he kicked his shoes off the night before, wrestling them back on. 

“I’m aware of that, yes.” Connor remarks dryly. 

“So everyone in the precinct will think we fucked, Betamax. Anderson is looking for excuses to peel my skin off and make it into a fucking leather jacket, I’m not gonna give him one. Wear your own damn pants.” He points an accusing finger at Connor, like it was the android’s evil plan all along to get Hank to throw hands with him. 

Connor just rolls his eyes and moves Bathroom off of his lap so he can stand, crossing his arms once he’s on his feet. “I doubt anyone in the office will think we slept together, Detective.” 

“Really? Because I’m out and proud, have been single for way too long, and according to Tina, everyone’s noticed that we’ve been tolerating each other a lot more. I think you’re one stolen hoodie away from being labeled my waifu for laifu, and if that happens I’m Ronald McFucked. Got it, iPod Nano?” 

“I don’t think I understood a single word you just said to me, actually.” Despite his words, Connor is visibly amused, if not a little annoyed at Gavin’s rant. Which is usually what Gavin’s friends look like whenever he talks. 

“Cool. Let’s go.” He tosses the keys to Connor, who catches them with a curious look on his face. “What? I dunno where we’re going.” 

“You just don't strike me as the type to let someone else drive their car.” Connor joins him by the door, slipping on his own shoes. It’s a hilarious combination, seeing Connor in loafers and mesh shorts. 

“I’m not, but I figured letting you drive my car would probably be just as safe as the self-driving cars since, you know…” He gestures to the LED blinking on the side of Connor’s head. 

“I mean. You’re not wrong. However, I’m not sure if I should find that comment offensive or not.” Gavin shrugs in response, opening the door for him and Connor before shutting it and locking it behind them. 

“Well considering the fact that I said it, it’s safe to say it was probably offensive.” He decides to take the stairs today, since he skipped his jog and isn’t at risk of slipping to death like he was last night. Connor follows closely behind, easily matching his pace with his android stamina. Is it even possible for an android to get tired from physical activity? Maybe they overheat or something. 

“But it  _ is _ true.” They retrace their steps from the previous night, only this time Gavin gets in the passenger seat. It’s a weird feeling to be in the passenger seat of his own car. 

“Yeah, but I’d be offended if people told me a lot of shit that’s probably true about me.” He shrugs, putting on his seatbelt as Connor mirrors his actions before starting the car and driving towards their mystery location. 

“Fair enough. In that case, I’m offended and fuck you.” 

Gavin mock-gasps in horror, clutching a hand to his chest. “Oh my stars. Watch your fucking language, young man. My sensitive virgin ears cannot handle such no-no words.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a nightmare?” Connor asks, refusing to look over at Gavin as he speaks. Gavin kicks up his feet on the dashboard, flipping Connor off despite the android’s eyes being fixed on the road ahead. 

“Yes and I find it very offensive.” He flashes Connor a smug grin and Connor flips him off in response, holding his hand out and in Gavin’s personal space until he bats it away. So Connor  _ can _ see what Gavin is doing. Do androids have a bigger field of vision than humans? He has so many questions and so few answers. If only there was someone he could ask. Like a real android. If only. 

They banter back and forth throughout the rest of the drive, Connor still not looking away from the road yet somehow also knowing everything Gavin is doing. And he tests it out quite a few times. He may or may not have tried to throw his shoe at Connor, who intercepted it and then lectured him about increasing the probability of causing an accident with his shenanigans. 

It was very worth it. 

They come to a stop in an abandoned parking lot surrounded by dilapidated and abandoned buildings. Whatever playful or witty comment Gavin was about to say dies on his tongue as he looks around the area, his heart sinking at the thought of Connor living here all alone for so many months.  _ How did no one notice? _

The sound of the car door slamming jolts him out of his thoughts, and he hurries to follow Connor out of the car. “So, which one’s yours?” He does his best to keep his tone light, unsure of how Connor would even react to his concern. 

“It’s… A little further in,” Connor responds cryptically, leading Gavin to a chain link fence with a large hole cut into it. 

They walk together in silence, moving through the tedious wasteland of an abandoned part of Detroit that Gavin didn’t even know existed. It isn’t until they reach their destination that it finally fucking hits him. 

“Connor.” Gavin stops walking, looking around at the charr marks on the ground, rubble surrounding them, and the metal haul of a freightliner just barely breaking through the surface of the water that borders the decaying and forgotten ghost town. He knows where they are, he’s read the reports, he’s seen the news. Still, he has to ask. He has to be sure. “Is this Jericho?” 

Connor is quiet for so long that Gavin isn’t sure if he’ll get an answer. The android reaches into his pocket, pulling out that damn coin and walking it over his knuckles as he finally mutters out an almost too quiet to hear ‘yes.’ 

“Jesus. Why?” Why would Connor want to stay here? Why pick this place over Anderson’s home, or a place in New Jericho, or hell, even just a different fucking abandoned building. Why stay at the place that he was forced to lead an attack on before his deviancy? 

This time he doesn’t get an answer, instead Connor just asks him to wait in place, something that he’s more than happy to do. He’s not sure he could stomach seeing anymore of the destruction Connor’s been masochistically forcing himself to live amongst. So he stays put, just watching the water lap peacefully against the wreckage of what used to be the sanctuary of the deviants, and isn’t that a fucking oxymoron? His skin crawls uncomfortably with memories of the night of the attack. The night he had tried to kill Connor. The night that hundreds of androids were massacred. He wonders how those FBI agents live with themselves. How they can sleep at night knowing that they ended real, genuine lives. Not only adult lives, either. Gavin knows there must’ve been some YK500s on board. Children. 

And Connor has made his home next to their graves. 

Unable to stomach anymore, he returns to the safety of his car, taking the driver’s side now that he knows where they are. He feels a little more safe in the cab of the vehicle, a little more sheltered from the reality that lies just a few hundred meters away from where he sits. He wonders if anyone will ever try to exhume the corpses buried in the water in order to give them proper funerals, or if there’s just too many to even fathom such an undertaking. He wonders if there’s even anyone alive to miss most of the androids that have made the sea their permanent resting place. 

He wonders what Connor thought about when he’d return here after a long day at the precinct to try to rest among the wreckage in the dark. 

Restlessly, he reaches into the glove compartment, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and fishing a lighter out of his jacket pocket. He steps out of his car, door hanging open as he leans against the hood and lights his cigarette, smoke burning down his aching throat. 

He’s on his second cigarette whenever Connor returns, fully dressed in his usual style and hair combed neatly back into place. “I thought you were trying to quit.” 

“The lollipops you gave me are in my desk at work.” And it’s not a good excuse at all, but Gavin meets Connor’s eyes and silently dares the android to call him out. 

“Fair enough.” Connor concedes to Gavin’s shit reasoning, and he almost feels bad for not actually explaining himself, but his real reason is actually so fucking selfish he can’t bring himself to form the words. How is he supposed to say that he feels so much second-hand guilt for something that he didn’t even really have a hand in that he’s stress-smoking? Hell, if anything Gavin has a right to feel half good about himself, because he unwittingly tried to stop Connor from leading the raid on Jericho that night. It’s not enough, he knows, he still hates himself for aiming a gun at Connor, for actually wanting to pull the trigger, but it’s nothing compared to what Connor must feel after sitting in the passenger seat of his own mind while his body led a fucking tactical team to kill his own people. 

“You got all your stuff?” He asks the question even though he can see the duffel bag hanging from Connor’s shoulders. He wants to double check. He doesn’t want to have to bring Connor back here for any reason. 

“Yes, this is everything.” And isn’t it pathetic that all of the belongings Connor has amassed in the ten fucking months since the rebellion fit in a single bag? They’re probably all clothes, too. No personal items, just the bare minimum to come across like a functioning adult in the workplace. 

“Good. I’m never letting you come back here again. This is so fucked. You get how this is fucked, right?” He stomps out the rest of his cigarette, because if he doesn’t do it now he’ll finish it, and if he finishes it he’ll compulsively pull out a third. 

Connor doesn’t meet his eyes, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground in between them instead. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I understand that you feel guilty for the way you treated androids, including myself in the past, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to-”

Gavin is fucking reeling, and he cuts Connor off before he can continue down that fucked up line of thought. “I’m gonna stop you right the fuck there, okay? You’re so far off base that you’re playing a different fucking sport. I’m over here up to bat, and you have a goddamn basketball.” 

“Detective-”

“No, shut the fuck up and let me say this. I am extending you the same goddamn courtesy I would to a human coworker if I found out they needed a place to sleep at night. You’re a living fucking being, and it’s fucked sideways that it took a damn near literal war to get me to figure that out. It’s fucked that there’s people out there that still haven’t figured it out. This isn’t my fucked up, backhanded way of apologizing for trying to kill you. I can’t ask for forgiveness for that, because I damn well know that it’s fucking unforgivable.” Gavin is toe to toe with Connor by the time he finishes speaking, and he fucking hates that he has to look up to meet the android’s eyes. They’re both silent for a moment, and then Gavin’s standoffish posture deflates. He just wants to get in his car and get the fuck away from this place. Away from this moment. 

“Sometimes I wish you had killed me.” It’s quiet, mumbled under Connor’s breath and Gavin is pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it, but he did. His blood turns to ice and he freezes in place, one foot in the car, the other on the ground. 

“Connor…” He takes a deep breath, getting back out of the car and pinching the bridge of his nose, the scar there aching with the action. He did not sign up for this. This is not what he intended to happen when he offered up his bed to a homeless robot. He just wanted the guy to have a safe place to sleep. He didn’t want all of these- these fucking  _ feelings. _ “Look at me.” 

Connor does not look at him. 

“I said look at me.” He grabs Connor’s shoulders, turning the android to face him. Still, Connor’s eyes defiantly remain elsewhere. He huffs, putting his hands on either side of Connor’s face and  _ forcing _ Connor to look at him. “If you don’t fucking look at me, this is only gonna get weirder.” 

Brown eyes flick down to meet Gavin’s. He lets go of Connor’s face. “If you died that night, who the fuck would’ve let that army out of Cyberlife Tower?” 

Again, Connor’s eyes fall to the ground, like the truth is buried in Gavin’s irises and the only way it can be avoided is to look anywhere but in Gavin’s eyes. “I’m sure someone would’ve-”

“Connor. You’re too fucking smart to be this fucking dumb. I know you’ve got deduction skills somewhere in that android detective brain of yours. Use them. If you weren’t there, who would’ve done what you did?” 

Connor is visibly shaking, a feature that Gavin is pretty sure is non-standard for androids. “No one. No one else would’ve been able to bypass security without immediately being gunned down.” 

Gavin nods, resting a reassuring hand on Connor’s shoulder. “If it weren’t for you, who knows what would’ve happened to Robot Jesus and the others.” 

“It’s not enough.” 

And, fuck, Gavin knows that feeling. The feeling of never being able to atone for what’s been done. “Yeah? Well if you fucking die, you’re not gonna be able to do much to make up for it, now are you? All you can do is try to do right by the people you’ve hurt and hope that one day you’ll be able to finally fucking sleep through the night.” 

Connor lets out a shaky breath, and Gavin didn’t even know androids could breathe up until now. He says nothing, letting the android compose himself for a moment as he pretends to not notice whenever Connor wipes at his eyes. “We should go.” 

“God, I couldn’t agree more.” He gives Connor’s shoulder one last reaffirming squeeze before letting his hand fall back to his side. “Let’s do something less depressing, like investigate a murder.” 

Connor huffs out a watery laugh at that, following Gavin into his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taking bets on how long yall think itll take for these dumbasses to finally kiss


	6. The Forbidden Gusher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people really should fact check connors info about his personal life he clearly cant be trusted

“I fail to see how this has anything to do with solving a murder.” Connor grumbles as Gavin leads him into a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that he and Tina discovered while they were still in academy. 

“It doesn’t. But we are preventing one.” He slides into line behind an older woman who seems to be either really intensely trying to decide what she wants from the menu, or she’s forgotten where she is and is totally fucking zoned out. 

“How so?”

“If I bring Tina coffee, she won’t beat me to death with her bare hands in front of the entire precinct.” Gavin mirrors the old lady, looking up at the menu to see what he wants. 

“Why would Officer Chen murder you over coffee?” 

“Because I woke her up at one-thirty last night with rapidfire gay panic texts.” The menu has a list of drinks labeled ‘android safe.’ Maybe Gavin should see if he can pick up some android toilet wine for Connor to drink tonight after all. 

Connor opens his mouth to speak, then looks like he thinks better of what he’s about to say and closes it before trying again. “I really must have been very ignorant for the past several months to not notice your blatant flaunting of your sexual orientation.” And Connor’s not wrong. He’s pretty sure Connor was working at the precinct whenever Tina was polling people to see if they thought Gavin was a top or bottom ‘for science.’ 

She owed him coffee every morning for two weeks after that stunt. 

“Yeah, well, sounds like a ‘you’ problem. You want anything?” He nods towards the menu.

Connor shakes his head. “No thank you. I don’t think I’d be able to properly enjoy any kind of android food or drinks in the same way most would.” 

“Is it ‘cause of the children’s CSI science set you’ve got on your tongue?” He gestures to his own mouth, eyebrows raised inquisitively. 

Connor closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s mentally picturing just fucking laying a haymaker on Gavin before opening them again, fixing the most unimpressed, dry stare on him that he’s ever been victim to. “Yes, Detective, it is because of the enhanced forensic sensors in my mouth. I think I would just break down the drink into its components and analyze them instead of actually tasting them.” 

“You _think_ but you don’t _know._ ” Gavin argues back, glancing back up at the menu one last time as the lady in front of them finally places her order and moves off to the side to wait. The barista gestures him forward and he steps up to place his order. “Hi, uh, lemme get uhhhhh large caffe americano, a large white chocolate raspberry iced latte with an added double shot of espresso, and whatever the most popular android thingy is on the menu for my homie the Amazon Echo back there.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb at Connor, who he can tell without even looking at is glaring at the back of his skull. 

The barista laughs and takes his name before ringing up his order. He grimaces at the price, but honestly he can’t be too upset because he knows damn well that his fucking sugar nightmare is the most expensive thing on the receipt. He moves off to the side to wait for their drinks and Connor follows, sticking to his side like a tumor. He wonders if this is going to be a new development inside the workplace as well, or if Connor is only this clingy when their coworkers can’t see. 

They get their drinks a few moments later. Gavin’s iced, raspberry drizzled, whipped cream covered nightmare and Connor’s blue, shimmering sci-fi drink makes Tina’s plain paper to-go cup look out of place on the counter. He grabs his own drink and Tina’s, nodding towards whatever the blue thing is. “Take it, my hands are full.” 

“First of all, are you trying to give yourself rhabdomyolysis via excessive caffeine intake?” Connor grabs the blue thing, eyeing it up suspiciously. “And secondly, I told you I won’t be able to taste this.” 

“I don’t know what the fuck a Rabbi-scholyosis is, but it sounds exactly like the kind of thing I’m trying to cause.” He takes a long sip of his latte. “And also, don’t you kinda wanna know what in that crazy thing is making it all shiny and alien looking? Like, what the hell are they trying to pass off as android-safe, and is it actually safe?” 

Pursing his lips, Connor takes a deep breath. “You do make a compelling argument. And we’re talking about your blatant disregard for your own health later.”

“I’m trying to quit smoking!”

“And failing miserably.” Okay, fair point. 

“Yeah, well. I also jog sometimes and go to the gym when I remember to.” 

Connor fixes him with a pointed look. “And how often is that?” 

Gavin takes a long sip of his latte, pointedly trying not to answer the question. 

“Your metabolism must be incredibly powerful for you to have the body that you do with the habits that you keep.” 

Gavin grins around his straw, waggling his eyebrows at Connor. “You sayin’ I’ve got a hot bod, Vector?” He pointedly doesn’t mention that his metabolism is probably shot from him forgetting to eat anything other than breakfast and sometimes a snack when he gets home from work. Maybe Connor is right. He should probably take better care of himself. 

Nah. 

“I’m ignoring you now.” And Gavin’s grin only grows because that wasn’t a ‘no.’ 

The smug look on Gavin’s face progresses into something increasingly unbearable to look at and Connor proceeds to turn around, evacuating the building. Unfortunately for him, he and Gavin are going to the same location. Gavin slips into the driver’s side of the car, setting Tina’s drink into the cupholder and holding onto his own as he buckles up and starts the car. “So are you gonna drink the thingy or what?” 

“Or what.” 

“I paid for that, you know.” 

Connor huffs, glaring at Gavin for at least the hundredth time so far that day. Gavin stares back, refusing to put the car in drive until Connor tells him what the fuck is in the Blue Goo. Finally, Connor raises the plastic cup to his mouth, taking a sip through the straw. His face immediately turns into an unidentifiable expression, lips pursed in thought. 

“It’s thirium.” 

“No shit.” 

“I can just dump the rest out the window and refuse to tell you what the other ingredients are, you know.” Connor snaps at him, hand hovering near the window controls. 

“And I can recite all of the words of the FitnessGram Pacer Test™ on repeat until we get to the precinct.” He challenges back immediately. Connor should not underestimate his power. He can and will annoy the everloving fuck out of the robot until he self-destructs. 

“You’re unbearable.” As annoyed as Connor sounds, Gavin can see the amusement on the android’s face as he visibly struggles to reign in a smile. 

“And this isn’t even my final form, I can _easily_ get even more unbearable. Can you even imagine?” 

Connor heaves a long, dramatic sigh, throwing his head back on the exhale. He stays like that for a moment, eyes closed, clearly wondering what god he pissed off to be stuck in this car at this exact moment. Then, he looks back to Gavin. “It’s composed of thirium as well as a diluted solution that acts as a kind of detoxifier in an android’s blood, eliminating contaminants that have found their way into our systems and increasing the flow rate of thirium and productivity of our biocomponents overall. Also, it’s blueberry flavored. It's… good.” 

Hah, he fucking knew Connor would like it. He makes a mental note to check the store and see if he can buy more weird android stuff to make Connor eat and/or drink. It only makes sense since the guy is gonna be staying at his apartment for the foreseeable future. He finally throws the car in drive, pulling out of the parking space and heading towards the precinct. “Good. I’m glad you like it, because it was ten dollars and if you didn’t like it _I’d_ have to fucking drink it.” 

“I’m almost positive that this is toxic to humans.” Almost, but not quite, check fucking mate. 

“Even better.” Blueberry flavored death? Hell yeah. 

“Should I be concerned at your eagerness to die over ten dollars?” Connor sideyes Gavin, brow furrowed as he takes another sip of his fucking Febreze cocktail. 

“Probably. On the bright side, at least now you know that I’m willing to die for almost any reason, so I’ll probably be more than happy to take a bullet for you in the field if I ever need to.” 

“There is so much to unpack from that statement, but I believe the most important piece of information is that I’ve just been equated to a ten dollar drink from a cafe no one’s ever heard of. I’m hurt, Detective.” Connor puts a hand over his chest as he speaks, feigning offense. 

“Untrue, technically the ten dollars is being added to your overall value because you’re drinking it. You’re worth at least twenty now.” Connor smacks him on the arm hard enough to bruise. 

-+-+-

“Come on, dude, just give me a sip.” Gavin is right on Connor’s heels as they walk into the precinct five minutes late with ~~Starbucks~~ coffee. He’s pretty sure Connor is trying to outrun him without actually running. The end result is the two of them fast-walking into the bullpen, Gavin annoyingly always one step behind Connor and his long fucking legs. 

“It’s unsafe for human consumption, _dude_.” Connor has the audacity to hold his drink in the air, just out of reach whenever Gavin makes a grab for it. 

“I won’t die from a sip. I ate a Tide Pod once and I’m still here, aren’t I?” People are definitely staring now, but Gavin is used to being the center of attention. Granted it’s usually for much different reasons, especially whenever a certain android is involved. 

“You ate a _what_?” Gavin pauses in his pursuit of the Blue Goo at the sound of Tina’s voice, turning around to find a very unhappy gay Asian. 

“I was just about to say the same thing, Officer Chen.” Connor glares down at Gavin, and honestly fuck that guy for being three inches taller than him. 

“Guys come on, I was sixteen, give me a fucking break. Also hi T, I dropped your coffee in the parking lot.” He also dropped his own. He was really struggling with Connor to get a sip of the Forbidden Slushie. 

“Uh huh.” Tina nods slowly, looking at Gavin as if he’d grown a second head. Or maybe like he was getting along with an android or something. Equally as unlikely and weird for him. “Gav, can I talk to you for a sec?” 

“Technically we already are talking, but I’ll allow it.” He makes one last attempt to grab the Blue Goo from Connor as he walks by, failing miserably. 

He follows Tina into the, thankfully empty, breakroom. He’s fully prepared to be murdered for dropping her coffee, and is already mentally willing all his earthly belongings to his cats whenever she turns to face him. “Did you and Connor actually fuck?” 

Okay, not what he was expecting at all. “Did me and who what now?”

“Oh come on, Gav. You text me last night saying he’s staying with you for the night. You two come in at the same exact time as each other today acting like a sickeningly sweet couple, bantering like you’ve been together for years. When the fuck did you find the time to get married between yesterday and today?” 

“We’re not acting like-” Tina stares through his soul, effectively cutting him off. “We’re friends at best, T. And even _that_ is a new development.” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Reed.” Oof, called out by his last name. That’s how he knows she’s not fucking around. 

“I’m not lying! We slept in separate beds last night and everything. Hell, he was already down for the count when I texted you. Believe me, he’s more interested in hanging out with my cats than with me.” Tina crosses her arms, still looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Okay, we may or may not have had a _mild_ bonding moment or two, but that’s it.” 

“Bonding moment?” And fuck her if she thinks he’s actually going to tell her about the actual nightmare that was this morning. Or the towel incident. Or the second towel incident. 

“Bonding moment.” He mirrors her stance, crossing his own arms. “I’m very offended that you think I’m boning Connor just because we get along well and I’m gay. You and I practically act the same way, and no one thinks _we’re_ fucking.” Except for Connor last night and also probably a lot of other people. 

“You’re the dumbest motherfucker I’ve ever met in my entire life, Gav. And you still owe me a coffee.” She doesn’t give him time to reply, hitting his shoulder with her own as she walks past him and out of the break room. 

God, he is _not_ looking forward to getting drunk with her tonight. 

Oh god. He’s _really_ not looking forward to her getting drunk with Connor around tonight. Oh fuck, Connor will be there tonight. Connor, who now lives in his guest room. The guest room where Tina and Suz were supposed to be staying. They _could_ just squeeze together on his couch (they’ve done it before), but then where would Chris sleep? Maybe he could just prop Connor up in the corner this one time, even though that would be a huge dick move after he went on that long tirade the day before about Connor deserving a warm place to sleep and a bed just like a human and _fuck._ Gavin’s gonna fucking sleep in the bathtub. That’s it. That’s the solution. Because otherwise he’s either gonna have to share a bed with Chris ‘Kicks Hard Enough To Break Bones In His Sleep’ Miller, or Connor. And Tina would fucking eat him alive if he shared a bed with Connor. 

He’s not even sure if he would be able to survive until the next morning if he was sharing a bed with Connor. He might die before Tina can even sink her claws into him. Because it’s fucking _Connor,_ the runway model sent by Cyberlife. He only just barely survived the bathroom thing. And now they have some kind of friendship forming, and everyone already apparently thinks they’re fucking, and he literally cannot do that to Connor. Sweet innocent Connor, who Gavin didn’t even know was capable of saying the fuck word until recently, and who has more than enough going on in his fucking life that he doesn’t need to deal with the goddamn bullpen’s gossip. And who Gavin didn’t even tell about the people coming to his apartment tonight so the android could at least brace himself. Fucking oops. 

Maybe he should just cancel the entire thing? But then of course, Tina would show up anyways to make sure he’s not possessed, because he’s never cancelled plans on anyone before unless he’s literally been hospitalized. 

So. Bathtub it is.

Taking a deep breath, he takes a moment to pull out his phone and check his email. He originally was going to do some more work from his desk, but he suddenly wants to be anywhere but in this cursed building. He finds the message he was looking for, the go ahead to move the statue in the plaza beside the park and see what’s underneath, and pockets his phone again. That’s all he really needs to excuse himself back out into the field for the day. He walks out of the breakroom and back into the bullpen, heading over to where Anderson and Connor sit. The two seem to be in the middle of a heated conversation, Connor’s LED cycling rapidly between red and yellow. He tries (and fails) to resist the urge to listen in to the conversation, but the two stop talking long before Gavin even gets close enough to hear what they’re saying anyways. 

“Sup Thing One, Thing Two.” He notes the lack of Blue Drink on Connor’s desk and is willing to bet the android threw it out to avoid Gavin trying to steal a drink of it again. “You nerds wanna go investigate a murder, or what?” 

“Are we actually going to investigate a murder this time, or is this another ploy to get more coffee?” Connor leans back in his chair, eyeing Gavin up suspiciously. 

“Am I fucking missing something here?” Anderson cuts in before Gavin can respond, hands planted on his desk as he leans forward to stare Gavin down. 

And honestly? The fucking audacity of this bitch. How fucking dare he pretend to be so fucking overprotective of Connor, yet he didn’t even know that the android had been sleeping in a grave for the past ten months. Gavin’s five seconds away from throwing fists, honestly. “Yeah, champ, you’re missing a fucking lot.” 

And that sends Anderson over the edge. The old bear is up from his desk in a second, grabbing Gavin by the jacket and giving him a solid shake. “Listen here, you little shit-”

“Hank.” Connor rests a hand on The Lieutenant’s shoulder, and Gavin can _see_ how hard the android is squeezing. That’s probably gonna leave a mark. Still, it takes almost five whole seconds for Anderson to finally let go of him. 

Anderson turns, pointing at Connor.“We’re not done talking, yet.” He turns back to Gavin, jabbing his finger directly into Gavin’s sternum with more force than necessary “And _you_ aren’t fucking fooling anyone.” 

“I’m not trying to fool anyone, Anderson.” He smacks the hand away from his chest, not backing down from The Lieutenant’s glare. 

“Connor, let’s go.” Anderson turns away, grabbing his jacket from his desk. 

Connor stays put, fixing Hank with a sympathetic look. “Actually, Hank, Detective Reed and I have a lead that we need to follow up on. I believe it would be more beneficial for me to go with him.” Gavin doesn’t bother repressing the smug smirk on his face.

Anderson wants to argue, Gavin can fucking see it on his face. But him and Connor share some kind of meaningful look that is lost on Gavin, and Anderson sighs. “Fine. Call me if you need anything.” 

With that, Hank brushes past Gavin and out of the bullpen, leaving him alone with Connor. “If I ask what the fuck all that was about...” 

“I wouldn’t answer.” Connor sighs, pulling his coin out of his pocket and flicking it between his hands. “He doesn’t mean to be so aggressive. He just-” 

“Doesn’t know what the fuck is going on?” Gavin cuts in, and Connor winces. “Connor. Anderson isn’t a fucking idiot, where did he think you were staying this whole time?” 

“New Jericho.” Connor won’t meet his eyes anymore, instead focusing on the coin in his hands like he suddenly actually needs to. 

“And why weren’t you staying there?” Gavin’s voice is barely above a whisper, this conversation far too personal to be had out loud in the middle of the bullpen. 

“They all believed I was staying with Hank.” And that wasn’t what Gavin asked, not really, but it’s the answer that he has to be content with for now, because it’s all Connor is willing to give him. 

“Jesus, Connor.” Gavin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose until he can feel his pulse in the scar there. 

“You only call me by my name when you’re in distress. Why is that?” 

Gavin looks up, meeting Connor’s gaze for the first time since the start of the conversation. “Anyone ever tell you that correlation is not causation, Gamegear?” 

Connor blinks at him, mouth slightly agape as he was obviously not expecting that answer. “Fair enough, Detective.” 

“At least now I get why Anderson is so goddamn suspicious of me. I just look like a fucking stalker now.” Gavin shoves his hands in his pockets, turning around and making his way towards the exit, gesturing for Connor to follow. 

“That’s not even remotely why.” Connor responds from behind him.

“And the real reason is a big secret that I’m not allowed to know?” He glances back at Connor, a single eyebrow raised in question. 

Connor just smiles back at him. “Exactly.” 

“You do know that I’m a detective, right?” They walk out the door to the station heading back to his car and passing by the unmarked graves of his latte and Tina’s coffee. “I can probably figure it out.” 

“You do know that I’m a detective as well, right? I can easily hide it from you.” And, fuck, Connor’s right. 

“I guess it just depends on which of us is the better detective.” Connor. The answer is Connor. The android is literally made for the job. 

Still, Connor is polite enough not to say that out loud, instead he just laughs, nodding his head. “I guess it does.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thinking of writing a spin-off thats just a few thousand words of connor harassing gavin for eating a tide pod


	7. Hacker Voice: I'm In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gavin is a little less stupid than weve been led to believe and isnt that just a little suspicious

There’s a crowd gathered around the marked off area whenever Gavin and Connor arrive, civilians all eager to see what’s going on. There’s a small scale construction crew hooking up a crane to the statue inside the cordoned off area and Gavin can feel himself full body cringe at how badly they all must be fucking up the evidence. He hopes Connor already licked everything he needed to and the only thing they need to check now is what’s under the statue- if there’s even actually anything there. 

It takes a second for him and Connor to push through the crowd, a few people making it a little more difficult for Connor than necessary. The android doesn’t say anything though, just flashes his badge with a smug look on his face that may or may not make Gavin a little bit proud of him, because _fuck those guys._ It’s good to see Connor stand up for himself. Even if it’s way less aggressive than Gavin would like. If he was Connor, he’d fucking roundhouse the nearest anti-android motherfucker in the throat. But he’s not Connor, and he was anti-android a few months ago himself, so he lets the android do his own thing. 

They scan their badges so they don’t trigger the alarm when they pass through the holographic police line, stepping into the scene and watching as the statue gets raised off the ground by the crane. Gavin nods his head in thanks to the worker behind the crane, an android with his LED still intact. He wonders if the guy was originally a construction android, or if he ended up in this job after the revolution. 

“Detective Reed, you’re not going to believe this,” Connor’s voice cuts off his pondering, and he glances over to find the android already hard at work, crouched down beneath the statue as it dangles precariously over him. 

Yeah, Gavin doesn’t fucking trust that for a second. He stays well away from the splash zone, preferring to not risk the possibility of being crushed alive under a piece of modern art and instead opting to stand behind Connor and peek over his shoulder. “Oh my fucking god.” The universe must have an incredible sense of humor today, because carved into the cement is a name and an address. 

“I highly doubt this is the perpetrator’s strange way of turning themself in, but it does seem like a good place to start.” Connor trails his fingers over the indentations in the concrete as he speaks, probably looking for some kind of clue that’s invisible to the human eye. 

Yeah, big fucking no on the good place to start. Gavin’s seen this shit in movies too many times to believe that this shit would be this easy. “Or, it’s a fucking trap and we’re gonna run in head first and get our manly bits chopped off and fed to pigs. If we’re going to this place, we’re bringing all the backup we’re allowed to have.” 

Connor glances back at Gavin, lips pursed in thought. “I will admit that this is… Suspicious. Bringing backup along _would_ be beneficial. However, too many police vehicles arriving on scene may cause more issues than they would solve.” 

Gavin hates that Connor’s right. He can’t count how many times police lights have scared a perp into making a stupid mistake that resaulted in people getting needlessly hurt. “Okay, so minimal backup, but we go in expecting the worst.” 

Connor nods in response. “We should also alert Hank to the situation.”

Gavin groans, just barely resisting the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child. “Why do we gotta bring Anderson? If anything, he’ll just try to get me killed the whole time.” 

“While I admit that Hank has his… reservations about you, he wouldn’t put your life at risk. And, like it or not, he’s on this case, just like we are.” Bold words coming from a guy who literally watched Anderson threaten Gavin’s life multiple times in the past two days. 

“If Anderson’s on the case just like we are, then where the fuck is he?” Gavin makes a show of looking around the area. No Lieutenant to be found. 

Crossing his arms, Connor stands up and turns fully to face Gavin. “He’s following up on the warrants you requested for nearby security and traffic footage.” 

Oh. “Oh.” He hadn’t really expected Anderson to follow his lead on anything in this case. 

“Hank might not like you, but he knows that you’re good at what you do. He’s not going to jeopardize this case just because he wants to make you angry.” Connor sounds almost like he’s talking to a petulant child, and Gavin is half tempted to start acting like one because of it. 

“We’re both talking about the same guy, right? The one who’s arrived on scene to murders absolutely piss drunk? The motherfucker that’s interviewed witnesses smelling like vomit and whisky? You don’t think he’ll jeopardize the case?” The look on Connor’s face shifts from one of annoyance to one of actual anger, and Gavin is almost sorry he brought this up. Only almost. 

“Hank was grieving. Albeit not in the best way-”

Gavin scoffs, cutting Connor off. “You don’t think the loved ones of the dead people who’s murders we investigate are grieving too? They deserve a sober officer with a clear head that’s going to bring the sick fuck that killed their family member to justice, not whatever the fuck Anderson is.” 

Connor’s hands are clenched into fists at his sides. “He lost his son.” 

“And we were all there for him! Fowler offered him time off that he didn’t take, we all tried to lighten his case loads when we could- fuck- do you have any idea how many times I went to his house just to make sure he was still fucking breathing? He didn’t just fall from grace, Connor, he fucking swan dived, and spat in the mouths of anyone who offered to help him back up. I had to stop going to his house to check his fucking pulse for my own goddamn sanity, okay? And somehow, _I’m_ the bad guy? I’m not mad at him for grieving, I’m mad at him for making anyone he could get his fucking hands on suffer too. I’m mad at him for having the audacity to act like I’m some kind of monster that can never make up for what I’ve done when he never even fucking apologized for-” Gavin stops himself, cutting off his sentence with a sharp intake of breath. He’s already demonized one of Connor’s only friends more than enough, and he really doesn’t want to keep reopening old wounds in the middle of a crime scene. 

The anger that was on Connor’s face is gone, replaced by confusion and sadness. “Apologized for what?” He tilts his head in a way that reminds Gavin way too much of a puppy. 

“Just- some stupid thing I’m holding a fucking grudge over for no goddamn reason,” Gavin sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “We going to this fucking address or not, Aido?” 

Connor wants to say more, Gavin can see it on his face, but he doesn’t. Instead he just nods, gesturing for Gavin to follow him as he walks out of the marked off area and towards Gavin’s parked car. 

They both slide into their respective seats, sitting in an awkward, heavy silence for a few seconds before Connor finally speaks up again. “He quit drinking, if that helps at all.” 

And, surprisingly, it actually kind of does. Gavin’s sure Connor probably had a lot to do with Anderson’s healthier lifestyle. Hell, he’s pretty sure he’s Connor’s next victim. “Good. Gonna need Anderson on his fucking toes since we’re definitely walking into a trap and you’re not letting me call in the big guns.” 

-+-+-

Anderson is already there and waiting for them when they arrive at the address that was left for them under the statue, his shitty old car parked inconspicuously alongside the road a little ways down from the house. The address, as it turns out, is for a relatively nice house in a cul-de-sac with fenced in yards and kids playing outside. It sends a shiver up Gavin’s spine to think that there could very well be a cold blooded murderer lurking among these people and none of them are any the wiser. Of course, that’s always how it goes, isn’t it? Well-to-do men in suits and soccer moms are just as capable of murder as iced out psychos in drug dens. Gavin’s learned that lesson multiple times over. 

He parks his car behind Hank’s, getting out and eyeing up the area like there might be a sniper in the bushes or some shit. Anderson gets out of his car to greet them, well, to greet Connor. “So what’s in this house that’s so important we all have to be here for it?”

“We’re actually not entirely sure,” Connor responds, scanning over the house with his eyebrows pinched together in concentration. The building seems inconspicuous enough, just a regular two-story beige house with red shutters and a white picket fence surrounding the border of the property. Honestly it’s offputting as fuck. 

“What do you mean you’re not sure?” Hank grouses, glaring at Gavin like _he’s_ the one who said he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. 

“We mean our perp left us this address under a fucking statue like this is a fucking episode of CSI: Miami, and now we have to check it out even though it’s an obvious trap,” Gavin cuts in before Connor can respond, since Hank is obviously talking to him and not his precious android child who he actually knows nothing about and should leave the fuck alone. 

Hank sniffs, crossing his arms and glaring at the house that Connor is still obsessively scanning. “Does sound like a trap.” 

“I’m not detecting any heat signatures,” Connor says, like that’ll make it sound like any less of a trap.

“So what’s the plan here, Nintendo 3DS?” Because Gavin’s plan obviously wasn’t up to Connor’s standards, and the android can see way more than Gavin and Hank can with their puny human eyes, so Gavin is trusting him to make the calls here. 

“While my scanners aren’t picking up on any obvious activity in the building, I still think it’s best we play it safe. Detective Reed, you go around back and make sure there’s no possibility of escape from a rear exit, Hank and I will enter from the front.” Nevermind, Gavin hates that plan and does not trust Connor to make the calls anymore. 

“Why the fuck are you sending me alone to the one part of the damn house you can’t see and know nothing about?” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Connor is trying to get him fucking killed. Actually, he doesn’t know better. Is Connor trying to get him fucking killed?

Connor purses his lips in thought for a moment, before conceding with a tip of his head. “Fair point. You and Hank go around back, I’ll take the front myself since there are no obvious signs of danger.” 

Okay, not who he was hoping to be paired off with, but at the very least he’s not going to be sent into a possible shootout without backup. “Aye aye, captain,” He salutes to Connor before gesturing at Hank to follow him. The older man looks like he’s got something to fucking say about Gavin taking the lead, but apparently he’s willing to wait until Connor is out of earshot to voice his opinions. 

They stalk around the back of the house, Gavin’s hand hovering nervously over his holstered service weapon as Hank sticks close behind him. The backyard is overgrown as hell, and Gavin’s pretty sure the neighborhood’s HOA should have something to say to whoever lives here about it. It’s difficult to navigate through the overgrown weeds and knee-high grass, and Gavin is half nervous that there’s fucking bear traps hidden in the greenery or some shit. 

“So, when did you and Connor get all buddy-buddy anyways?” Hank half-whispers from behind him as they approach the door. 

Gavin groans internally, suddenly much preferring the idea of running in half-caught and getting shot in the knee to this fucking conversation. “I don’t know what gave you that idea.” 

“Don’t fuck with me, Reed. You know I’ve got good reason not to trust you with him.” And Gavin bites back a grimace, because _god he fucking knows._ He’s not sure he trusts himself half the time. 

“I’m serious, Connor barely fucking tolerates me. He’s pissed at me for, like, the ninth time today already and all I did was subtly imply that you have a drinking problem.” He peeks through the window of the door, looking for any sign of movement from inside. “He’s crazy protective of you, you know.” 

Anderson scoffs behind him, clamping a hand down on his shoulder. “What did I just fucking say, Reed? Don’t fuck with me.” Hank forces Gavin to turn and face him, and all Gavin can think is that this _really_ isn’t the best time for the fucking shovel talk. “For whatever fucking reason, the kid likes you. You think he’s pissed at you for taking a jab at me, you should see how he reacts anytime I voice my moderate distaste about him being left alone in the bullpen with you.” 

And doesn’t that just give Gavin the warm fuzzies? He bites his lip to suppress a smile, turning back to face the door. “If you don’t like him being alone in the bullpen with me, you’re gonna fucking _hate_ where he spends his nights.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Gavin ignores the question, pushing open the door and heading inside, pistol drawn. 

“Reed, what the fuck does that _mean?_ ” Hank follows closely behind, whisper-shouting as they walk in through the door and into a run down kitchen that’s covered in a fine layer of dust. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been cooking anything in here in a long time. 

Gavin steps carefully through an open archway and into what appears to be a living room, damn near gagging as he’s hit with the overwhelming, and unfortunately familiar, scent of a rotting corpse. “Fuck.” 

So the address wasn’t a trap, it was an admission of guilt. Connor is crouched down in the center of the room, putting something in his fucking mouth, and Hank makes an audible gagging noise at the sight. Gavin is inclined to do the same, but there’s more pressing matters at hand. “What the fuck’s the stiff holding?” 

“I’m going to assume that was a rhetorical question.” Connor replies from his crouched position on the floor, probably analyzing disturbances in the carpet that match footprints or some other enhanced robot shit that Gavin wishes he could do. He turns his attention back to the body in question. Clutched in the corpse’s unmoving hands is a sleek laptop, unmarred by the blood pooling down the dead man’s face. This was definitely not as clean of a kill as the last one, and it’s obvious that the laptop was planted after the guy was already dead. He needs to check out that laptop. 

Connor makes a noise of frustration behind him, and Gavin turns to see him glaring at the corpse like it’s the murderer and not the victim. “Something wrong, Wiimote?” 

Connor shifts his glare to Gavin for a second, before going back to trying to shoot lasers out of his eyes and into the stiff’s skull. “This man doesn’t exist.” 

“Okay, pretty sure he does. He’s right there. I mean. He’s dead. But his body is right there.” Gavin jerks his head to the dead man seated on the couch. 

“We have his name, face, address. I even have a sample of his blood, but there’s not a single match for this man anywhere on record.” Another fucking ghost. 

“So he’s just like the last one?” Anderson speaks up from his corner of the room where he’s going through the dead man’s bookshelf. Normally Gavin would make some dumb fucking joke about the guy’s love for Moby Dick likely not having much bearing on who killed him, but at this point he can’t deny that their perp might’ve left any number of clues hidden around them. 

Connor nods, grabbing the stiff's hand from where it lays over the laptop and looking it over. “No fingerprints, either. I’m willing to bet if we tried to get dental records on him that would fail as well.” 

“How about we stop dancing around the most obvious piece of evidence in the room and see if that does anything to help, then?” Gavin gestures to the laptop that now sits half in the corpse’s lap and half on the couch as he pulls a pair of gloves out of his pocket and slips them on. His time in the boy scouts has taught him to always be prepared. Okay, so he was never a boy scout, but he likes to touch evidence before he’s technically allowed to, and he’s learned that he doesn’t get in nearly as much trouble if he doesn’t leave fingerprints behind.

“I’m not sure if directly tampering with evidence is the best idea. We might want to wait until it’s registered and gone over by someone with more… technical knowledge.” Gavin ignores Connor’s protests, grabbing the laptop and sitting it down on the coffee table in front of the couch, crouching down and opening it up. 

“I’ll be sure to tell Fowler that you tried to stop me when this inevitably ends up on my disciplinary record.” There’s no password lock on the laptop, which is incredibly strange considering the information that is loaded onto the screen immediately upon startup. 

“The fuck is that shit?” Hank speaks up from behind him, way closer than he remembers the guy being a few seconds ago.

“It appears to be some kind of code.” Connor’s voice is just as close. For them not being too into the idea of Gavin touching the important evidence, they sure are excited to watch over his shoulder as he does it. 

“It’s the basic framework programming for an android.” Gavin scrolls quickly down through the code, noting a few obvious tells that specify the android’s baseline duties of cleaning and obeying orders mixed in with a few stranger lines of code that specify things like _battlefield triage_. “What the fuck…” he mumbles under his breath, voice being overpowered by Connor as the android speaks up. 

“How do you know it’s android coding?” Gavin can feel Connor’s suspicious stare boring into the side of his head without having to turn and see it. 

“How _don’t_ you? Shouldn’t you know what your brain looks like?” Gavin rolls his eyes, playing the question off. 

“Do _you_ know what _your_ brain looks like, smartass?” Anderson must pick up on Connor’s suspicion to the fact that Gavin somehow knows how to identify android code despite Cyberlife protecting their information with their lives. This kind of information isn’t just readily available to the public, even now that androids are free. Especially now that androids are free. It’d be extremely dangerous for just _anyone_ to get their hands on information that could be used to easily alter the minds of androids. Especially someone like the infamous android hating cop, Gavin Reed. 

“I know what a human brain looks like, yes. Are we investigating me, or a murder?” Gavin snaps, eyes never leaving the screen of the computer as he scans over the jumble of letters and numbers, looking for something that can make sense of the mess of frankenstein coding he sees before him. His eyes catch on a model number. “What the fuck is an AA850?” 

The question was more to himself than to the people in the room with him, but Connor responds anyways. “I’ve never heard of that model of android before. It doesn’t exist.”

“Kinda like how our guy over here doesn’t exist?” Anderson points back at the stiff on the couch. 

A guy that doesn’t exist with the code for an android that doesn’t exist. All this information points to literally nothing. 

“Android model numbers are usually in multiples of one hundred, it’s strange that this one ends in a fifty,” Connor notes, voicing Gavin’s thoughts exactly.

The screen on the laptop goes black. “Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” Gavin key smashes frantically before settling on giving the laptop a few solid smacks to the side.

“Reed, the fuck did you do?” Anderson is the first to point fingers, but Gavin ignores him, holding down the power button in desperation to turn it back on. 

“I didn’t do shit, it just fucking self-destructed on me. Fuck.” The laptop remains dead. “Connor, I need you to remember something for me.” 

“Of course, Detective.” It’s almost annoying how relieved Gavin feels that Connor is still so willing to work with him despite the obvious suspicion the android feels towards him now. 

“626... 717-” He has to pause, snapping his fingers as he struggles to remember the last few digits. “Uh, fuck, 589, got it?” 

Connor nods in the affirmative. “Got it.”

With a sigh, Gavin slams the laptop shut. “Cool. Let’s bag this fucking thing up for evidence and get the rest of the team in here to comb over this shit. My brain is fucking fried.” He stands, slipping off his gloves and tucking them back into his jacket pocket and resisting the urge to go outside and light up a fucking cigarette. 

“So, that number you just listed off-” Hank starts to ask, but is cut off by Connor.

“I believe it is an android serial number. Is that correct, Detective?” 

“Fucking. Probably,” Gavin shrugs. “Or it could’ve been a reference number to a file, or a loose piece of code, or any number of random shit. It was just the last thing I saw before the computer committed sudoku.” He hadn’t gotten a good chance to really look into anything, and even then he barely actually knows anything about coding in general, let alone android code. He just knows the minimum required to recognize a few key points here and there.

Hank coughs to cover up a very obvious laugh and Connor rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “So, are you going to tell us how you know so much about android code?” The answer is a big fucking N.O. on that one. 

“I don’t see why I should have to.” Gavin mirrors Connor’s stance, crossing his arms and staring into the android’s eyes. 

“Maybe because that shit isn’t just readily available to the public.” Anderson muscles himself in between Connor and Gavin, poking an accusatory finger into Gavin’s sternum. “So how’d you get it?” 

Slapping away the finger in his chest, Gavin takes a step back to distance himself from Hank. “I’m not just anyone in the public, am I? I’m a cop.” 

“I don’t think that’s good enough.” Hank steps forward, challenging Gavin to do something. Anderson is right, it’s really not good enough. All three of them are cops, hell one of them is actually an android, and yet Gavin is the one that knew how to parse the code on the laptop? Even he can admit that that’s suspicious. 

Despite all that, however, Gavin’s had enough of Anderson stepping in to fight Connor’s fights for him. Gavin knows the android can stand up for himself, and quite frankly, Gavin probably would’ve spit out the truth, or at least some of it, if it weren’t for the Lieutenant butting in and acting like a goddamn jackass. “How about this, I don’t know every little fucking detail about you two, and I still trust you both not to shoot me in the spine when my back is turned, so why don’t you extend me the same goddamn courtesy?” 

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Hank looks like he’s about to say ‘fuck it’ and add another page to his disiplinary file for assaulting a coworker. “I think that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard considering the fact that you’ve aimed a gun at my partner two fucking times already!” 

“Hank,” Connor finally cuts in, placing a hand on the Lieutenant’s shoulder and pulling him away from Gavin, “that’s enough. Besides, you’ve pulled your weapon on Detective Reed in the past as well.” 

“That was different,” Hank mumbles, crossing his arms. He’s still glaring at Gavin, but Gavin’s already checked the fuck out of the situation. 

“I’m sure it was, champ. Are we good here? Because if so, I’m gonna go get a fucking coffee.” He jams his thumb over his shoulder pointing to the front door that he so desperately just wants to fucking make a mad dash for. They’ve all been stewing in corpse stench for way too long, and it’s making his insides fucking burn from breathing it in, the cold he thought he was beating now making a vicious comeback in the form of nausea and a migraine. 

“Would I be able to talk you into getting tea instead?” Connor tilts his head to the side, eyes squinted slightly, like he knows the answer already, but is _really_ trying for a different one anyways.

Gavin is just gonna have to disappoint him. “Just because you said that, I’m gonna fucking grind a pack of cigarettes up, filter water through the nasty cigarette dust, and drink that.” 

“That’s disgusting, Detective.” 

“Now you know how I felt when you asked me to drink _tea_.” Gavin wrinkles his nose in disgust. Fucking weird, bitter leaf water.

“You’re being dramatic.” Connor glares at him, unimpressed with his extra ass.

“And you’re trying to push me to become a better, healthier person, and I won’t fucking stand for it. I’m gonna die at age forty-two of a heart attack and you’re just gonna have to accept it.” Gavin glares right back. 

“Yeah, he’s not gonna do that, believe me,” Hank speaks up, and Gavin suddenly remembers that he’s there. Way to fucking ruin the banter.

“I know, but I can still fight him the whole fucking time for my own entertainment.” Gavin flashes Connor a smug grin, one that Connor responds to with the most displeased straight face he thinks he’s ever seen on an android. And that’s including before androids could feel emotion and they all had those weird, dead looking faces. 

“Go get your damn coffee already, Reed, you’re giving me a headache.” Anderson waves him off. 

“Jesus, okay. See ya Thing One,” He nods at Connor. “Thing two,” He flips off Hank and leaves before Connor loses his grip on the Lieutenant, allowing the older man a chance to rip Gavin’s kneecaps off. 

And if he lights up a cigarette the minute he gets to his car, well, Connor’s not there to call him out on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this story would have no plot whatsoever if everyone just told each other the answer to questions when they're asked


	8. Life, The Universe, Thirium Gushers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pretty sure both of these bois have the attention span of a goldfish.

Connor hunts him down in the bathroom. He probably should’ve seen it coming considering the shit he’s been pulling since six a.m. that morning, but it’s still very shocking to be just chilling, washing his hands, and then be pinned against the wall by an annoyingly tall android. “So do we kiss now, or…?” 

“What the hell did you say to Hank?” Connor’s reaction definitely does not imply that there will be any kissing taking place anytime soon. 

“Gonna have to be more specific there, LG Chocolate, I say a lot of shit to Anderson.” Untrue. Gavin has avoided talking to Hank up until the Lieutenant recently took a personal interest in harassing him, but still, in that short time period, Gavin has definitely said enough things that he can’t exactly pinpoint what the fuck Connor is on about. 

Connor looks less than thrilled by Gavin’s answer, to say the least. Or maybe he’s just less than thrilled with the entire situation. Who the fuck knows? Not Gavin. “I just had to endure a three hour long interrogation, because he somehow got it in his head that you and I are sleeping together.” 

Oh shit. “Oh shit.” 

“Oh shit is right. What did you say to him?” Connor asks a second time, and Gavin has to slam on his mental breaks really hard to get himself to actually answer instead of just calling Connor out on saying a cuss word like he usually would. 

“I may or may not have heavily implied that you recently spent the night at my place. Which isn’t untrue, and it’s his fault for automatically jumping to the conclusion that we’re boning.” Gavin doesn’t mention that everyone else in the station also thinks they’re fucking, and that Tina is actively trying to get them to fuck now that she knows they haven’t yet. 

He still needs to tell Connor that she’s coming over tonight. Maybe there’s still time to cancel?

“No, but given the fact that Hank doesn’t know about my actual living conditions prior to me staying with you, he has no reason to think that I would spend the night with you for any  _ other _ reason.” Connor’s grip still doesn’t let up on his jacket. The guy must be fucking pissed about whatever Anderson said to him. Or maybe he’s just really pissed at Gavin. That’s just as likely. Gavin is very capable of pissing people off, and Connor obviously has a good reason to be pissed off right now. It’s probably a mix of both, really. 

“Oh shit, you’re right. I didn’t even think of that. Guess that’s why you’re the advanced prototype, huh?” He awkwardly reaches forward, patting Connor on the arm. “Anyways, you uh, wanna let me go? If we’re going to try and make it look like we’re not fucking, one thing we shouldn’t do is leave the bathroom at the same time as eachother looking slightly roughed up.” He does his best to wink, but as usual it ends with him just blinking.

Connor blinks at him dumbly for a moment. “Right.” He lets go of Gavin’s jacket, smoothing it back down against his chest. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be going, then.” 

“Oh wait.” Gavin reaches forward, catching Connor by the sleeve. “Pretty sure I forgot to tell you this, but Tina, Tina’s fiance, and Chris are gonna be at my place tonight doing goblin activities.” 

Nodding his head, Connor looks… almost hurt. “Understood. I can stay at Jericho for the ni-”

“Jesus fucking Christ, no. Nope. Not what I meant. I was just warning you. Especially because Tina is,” he pauses, making a vague hand gesture. “The way that she is.” God he feels like such a fucking asshole for ever being shitty enough of a person that Connor would just automatically assume that Gavin would want him to go back to the shipwreck to sleep for the night. 

“Oh.” Connor nods once, then twice in quick succession, looking a little caught off guard. “Alright.” He pauses a moment, mouth open like he’s about to say something else, but instead he just nods again before turning and leaving the bathroom. 

Alone in the bathroom with each other is probably one of the weirder times Gavin could’ve chosen to tell Connor about the mini-party he’s having tonight, but Gavin is nothing if not socially awkward and horrible with timing conversations. He straightens out his jacket a little more and checks his reflection in the mirror as he waits a few minutes after Connor’s exit so he can make his own. Despite their attempt at subtlety, Anderson still catches Gavin’s eye as he walks out of the bathroom, the older man fixing him with that classic ‘you’re fucking dead, kiddo’ glare. Sweet. 

-+-+-

The end of the day rolls around too fast and too slow at the same time. On one hand, Gavin is more than fucking ready to just get the fuck out of the office and get blackout drunk on his kitchen floor with his friends. On the other hand, however, since he’s leaving on time for once with Connor in tow, literally everyone in the bullpen will see them leave together. And that includes Hank. 

The clock ticks over to five p.m. and Gavin decides to just bite the fucking bullet, grabbing his shit and walking over to where Connor and Anderson are seated, working quietly for once. “You ready, Zune?” 

“Ready for what?” Anderson looks between them, eyebrows furrowed like he’s trying to solve a physics equation on a fifth grade education. 

Gavin doesn’t speak, giving Connor the chance to respond instead, because honestly if the android doesn’t step in, Gavin’s gonna say something that’ll get him beat up by both of the men in front of him. Luckily, Connor takes the hint. “We’ve already talked about this, Lieutenant.” 

Oof, Connor is referring to Anderson by his title? Fucking cold. They must’ve really thrown down harder in whatever argument they had earlier than they usually do. 

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I listened, though.” Anderson looks between Gavin and Connor for a few seconds before leaning over his desk to say something to Connor that’s too quiet for Gavin to hear. It earns him a glare from both Gavin and Connor. Hell yeah, team fake couple. 

“I’ll see you on monday, Lieutenant.” Boom. Fucking cold. Even Gavin feels the ice in Connor’s tone and the sentence wasn’t even directed at him. 

Connor gathers his things and stands, joining Gavin as they walk out of the bullpen and towards the building’s exit. “So who’s dick did you have to suck to get weekends off?” 

Connor’s shoulder bumps into his a little more aggressively than necessary as they walk. “I don’t have weekends off. Hank does.” 

“Oh.” Gavin nods, bumping his shoulder back against Connor’s. “Who’s dick did he have to suck?” 

Again, Connor shoves his shoulder into Gavin’s. “Fowler’s, obviously.” 

The speed at which Connor so readily fires off an answer instead of defending Anderson catches Gavin off guard for a second, and then he’s laughing. He bumps his shoulder against Connor’s again, because apparently that’s what they’re doing now, shoving as hard as he can and almost getting the android to stumble. 

This time Connor retaliates by dropping all pretenses of playful shoulder bumping, instead just fucking piston thrusting his goddamn hand out and shoving Gavin way harder than necessary, making him stumble and almost fall on his fucking face. He would have eaten shit for sure, but Connor caught his elbow at the last second, laughing at his misfortune the whole-ass time. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you fucking glorified GPS.” He’s half tempted to go dead weight in Connor’s hold and pull the android onto the ground in revenge, but they’re in the middle of a parking lot and there are multiple witnesses around. Plus, he’s not entirely sure that would even work considering Connor’s ability to predict the future and counteract Gavin’s every goddamn move. So instead he stumbles back upright, giving the android one last shove. “Fucking prick.” 

They make it to Gavin’s car without further incident, although Connor doesn’t really stop laughing at him until a few minutes into the drive. Hurtful. 

“This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Connor notes, glancing out the window once he’s finally stopped giggling like a schoolgirl at Gavin’s expense. 

“No shit, Hotmail. We’re going grocery shopping. I gotta get liquor and whatever the fuck you want since you’re gonna be a permanant fixture in my apartment for the foreseeable future.” Gavin can feel Connor’s incredulous stare on the side of his face without having to turn his head and look. 

“You’re really willing to let me stay with you indefinitely?” Connor questions, like Gavin didn’t literally just fucking say that. 

Shrugging, Gavin glances quickly between Connor and the road as he responds. “I mean, yeah. You really think I’m gonna fucking wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night suddenly regretting helping you out of a shitty situation? I don’t know why the fuck you insisted on sleeping in a trash heap for so long, specifically the trash heap that used to be Jericho, but I can’t just let you keep doing that in good conscience. So,” he makes a vague hand gesture, something that he does often when he wants to portray whatever he’s feeling as ambiguously as possible, because he’s not even really sure what the fuck he’s feeling yet. “Yeah, feel free to stay with me until whenever. Rent’s due on the first of every month.” 

Connor snorts at that, still, Gavin can see the grateful look on the android’s face out of the corner of his eye, even if Connor is very pointedly trying to look away. “Thank you, Detective. I’ll keep that in mind. Still, I see through this ruse for what it really is, don’t think I don’t.” 

“What? What ruse?” Gavin’s pretty sure there’s no ruse, so he’s pretty fucking confused, as he has every right to be. 

“You just want to buy more android products so you can taste them and subsequently risk your own life,” Connor huffs an amused sigh, turning his head to face Gavin who can’t help but laugh. 

Honestly, Gavin had forgotten about his attempts to drink Connor’s cup of Windex earlier in the day, the memory making him smile. “Oh my fucking god, I don’t actually want any of that shit in my mouth. Honestly, if there’s any ruse here it’s that I actually really want to see if you can get drunk, because that shit would be hilarious.” 

“I somehow fail to believe that you’re telling the truth, Detective,” Connor responds, eyeing him up suspiciously. Which is fair enough. Gavin had fought extremely hard for a sip of Bloo, but it’s not like he would’ve actually  _ swallowed  _ it. Not that he ever told Connor that. 

“Listen, Dot-Matrix, I don’t actually want to ingest cleaning fluid. Tried that before, almost died. I just wanted to  _ taste  _ it. Which I said. I wasn’t gonna actually drink that shit, and I don’t plan on chugging a bottle of whatever freaky android toilet wine you pick out for tonight, alright? But, you  _ are  _ gonna pick out a freaky android toilet wine and you, me, Tina, Suz, and Chris are all gonna get drunk and be unsupervised and it’s gonna be fucking great.” Actually, it’s going to be a fucking disaster, and Gavin fully plans to lock Tina in the guest room and ignore her the entire night, because he knows damn well that she’s going to be a fucking insufferable, drunken love guru on the loose the moment she takes a shot. Possibly even before then. 

“And what if I don’t want to get drunk tonight?” Connor fires back, always ready to be a buzzkill. 

“Well, you also said you didn’t want to drink the weird android juice at the cafe this morning, but you did and you ended up liking it, so…” Gavin trails off, shrugging. He’s not gonna peer pressure Connor, he’s not a dick (okay he is, but still), but he also knows that Connor is just being a stubborn man-child at this point. 

Crossing his arms, Connor stands his ground. “Really, Detective? Are you trying to pressure me into drinking? I’m pretty sure they warn children about this kind of thing in middle school.”

“Oh my god, Tracfone.  _ No _ I’m not trying to peer pressure you, I’m trying to prove a point. But if you’re really not comfortable with getting drunk with us, then feel free to be the designated group mom and babysit our turnt asses. Because that’s probably what you’ll end up doing if you stay sober.” And damn, that definitely sounds a lot like he’s trying to fucking peer pressure Connor into getting drunk. He quickly backtracks. “Not because we make you, but because you’ll catch one of us doing some stupid shit and you won’t be able to just sit there and let it happen. Chris once spilled whisky on his phone and then tried to fucking rinse it off in the sink.” 

“It sounds to me like you might need someone to stay sober and babysit your ‘turnt’ asses.” Connor does little air quotes around the word ‘turnt,’ but it doesn’t stop Gavin from laughing at the fact that Connor just said the word ‘turnt.’ 

“Yeah, one of us is usually the designated driver and therefore also the designated babysitter when we go out drinking, but we figured if we’re all safely contained in my apartment this time, we could all just get fucked up there and not worry about having to get back to our respective homes until the next morning when we’re just hungover and miserable instead of drunk and untrustworthy,” Gavin explains, and Connor nods along, eyebrows raised in a show of false interest that’s barely hiding an obvious thought of ‘how the fuck did you survive for this long?’ 

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you will probably still need a designated babysitter.” 

Tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel, Gavin shrugs in response. “Yeah, well, no one wanted to do it this time.” 

“I’ll do it,” Connor volunteers for what will undoubtedly be the last time in his life. 

“Suit yourself, man. So no robot toilet wine?” Gavin glances over at Connor, eyebrow raised in question. 

Connor stares back, shaking his head with a poorly concealed smile on his face. “No robot toilet wine.” 

+-+-+

The minute they get inside the grocery store, Gavin grabs a cart and jumps in. “Push me, Limewire.” 

Connor proceeds to  _ not  _ do that. “Detective, the only way I’m pushing you in that cart is if it’s down a hill onto a heavily trafficked street. Get out. People are staring.” 

“Buzzkill.” Still, Gavin climbs out of the cart like Connor told him to. It’s no fun if no one’s willing to push him. He’ll just have to get kicked out of another Wal-Mart with Tina since Connor’s not on board with the idea of making a boring-ass trip to the grocery store at least mildly entertaining. 

Pushing the cart like a normal person, Gavin makes his way down the first aisle, figuring he may as well stock up on all the shit he’s running low on while he’s here. Connor sticks close behind, glancing around curiously. Wait. “Wait. Have you ever been in a grocery store before?” 

“No. I don’t have any need for most of the basic necessities humans require. I’ve been inside a few clothing stores, but that’s it,” Connor responds, staring at the large varieties of the same kind of bread. “I fail to understand why there has to be so many kinds of the same type of each product.” 

Gavin also fails to understand that concept too, so he doesn’t really have an answer for Connor. “That’s just capitalism, Yahoo. People are fucking nuts and desperate to make a quick buck on,” he grabs the nearest item off a shelf, reading the label, “pumpkin spice gouda? I fucking hate this country.” He tosses the sin cheese back where he got it from, continuing on his journey to re-up his Dorito supply. 

“Pumpkin spice  _ is  _ a popular flavor this time of year,” Connor notes, grimacing at the nightmare dairy despite his words. 

“That doesn’t give anyone the right to do gouda dirty like that.” Gavin shakes his head, face pinched in a combination of real and fake disgust. Real disgust at what that fucking cheese must taste like, fake disgust at the low morals of the people in charge of cheese. He grabs a few random snack foods for himself, tossing them into his cart, and sneaking in a few android safe foods as well. He buries the android snacks under his own, hoping Connor doesn’t notice. He just really wants to see Connor’s reaction to weird robot food. And maybe he also wants to record it and send the videos to Tina. Kind of like when his cats do something cute. Fuck, is that dehumanizing? Whatever, the morality of him buying his android roommate snacks can come into play when he’s lying awake in bed at three a.m., not while he’s grocery shopping with the aforementioned android roommate. 

“That’s a lot of-”

“Nope,” Gavin cuts Connor off, holding up a finger. “In this goddamn household we focus on improving one aspect of our health at a time, let me eat my goddamn nacho cheese triangles in peace until I quit smoking, and then you can attack some other part of my lifestyle.” 

“I’d be more inclined to agree with you, if you were actually putting more effort into quitting smoking. How many cigarettes have you gone through today? Three?” Connor crosses his arms, casting an accusing glance at Gavin. 

Fuck, so Connor does know about Gavin sneaking another behind his back. This motherfucker is good. Of fucking course he is, though. He’s a goddamn android detective. Noticing shit is literally in his programming. Which means that Connor probably noticed the android shit Gavin’s been picking up and is just not saying anything. How polite. “I would also like to point out that I go for jogs almost every morning.” 

“Imagine how much easier those jogs would be if you’d stop smoking,” Connor counters, and Gavin hates that he’s right. 

“But you gotta admit, I have a pretty solid bod for someone with such shitty habits, right?” Gavin holds his arms out to either side of himself, wiggling his eyebrows at Connor suggestively. 

“I’m sure you’d look even better if you actually did take care of yourself, though,” Connor points out, and fuck, that’s not the response Gavin was expecting. Because it also wasn’t a ‘no.’ 

Hell yeah. Connor thinks he’s hot. 

Which is good because…?

Failure to compute. Default to standard deflection tactics. “You’re the one who gave me candy. If I’m supposed to decrease my sugar intake, then why the lollipops?” 

The corner of Connor’s mouth twitches up into a smile. “Detective, those were sugar free.” 

Fuck, he’s been had. “Okay, well. Fuck. I’ll admit it, you got me.” 

Connor’s grin is smug as he takes the cart from Gavin’s grip, redirecting them towards the part of the store with the healthy shit. At least he doesn’t take out the snacks that are already in the cart, Gavin counts that as a win. 

“Okay, well, while you load up on boring green shit, I’m gonna go get the shit I’m actually here for.” Gavin’s not sure what’s possessing him to trust Connor with picking out the shit he’s about to pay for, but at the very least, he knows that the android hasn’t had any bills to pay for the past few months. He can always demand that Connor pays him back. Not that he would, but he at least tells himself that he can. 

“Alright. Why don’t we meet at the checkout in, say, fifteen minutes?” 

Gavin doesn’t need nearly that long to pick out some booze, but fuck if he won’t take advantage of it. “You got it, Roku.”

He spends the fifteen minutes amassing more weird android stuff. There’s an entire aisle for android friendly foods and drinks, all marketed as products to keep androids running smoothly while also making them feel more human. More like to make them look more human. Gavin’s sure that it’s more off putting to humans that androids don’t need to eat than it is to androids.

Heading to the checkout early, Gavin pays for all the random shit he’s amassed and bags it up so Connor can’t see what it is. He spends the last few of his fifteen minutes texting in the groupchat he has with Tina and Chris, letting them know that he’ll be home in twenty minutes and that they’re welcome anytime after that. 

Connor shows up exactly on time, not that Gavin expected him not to. He notes that while he was gone, his garbage food was, in fact, removed from the cart along with the android snacks he hid in the bottom. He fucking knew it.

“What’s in the bags?” Connor gestures at the bag in Gavin’s hand with his head, scanning the food he picked out all the while. 

“Stuff that I wanted.” Gavin shrugs, watching the price for shit he didn’t even want climb. “You know I only remember to eat like, one and a half times a day, right? All this shit is gonna go bad before I even remember it’s there.” 

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t go to waste.” Connor doesn’t even look at him when he responds, going about his task with the efficiency of a machine. Which. He is. 

“That sounds ominous as fuck, you know that, right?” Gavin raises an eyebrow at Connor. Is the guy gonna fucking hold him down and force feed him broccoli? Terrifying. 

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Connor turns to face Gavin, arms crossed. “I  _ mean _ , I don’t mind cooking for you. It’s the least I can do, after all.” 

Ew. That doesn’t sit right with Gavin, not at all. “Nuh uh, nope. No.” He shakes his head. “If you think you owe me shit you can put all this fucking food back because I’d sooner eat dirt off the floor than let you believe that. I’m helping you out because I want to, not because I want something in return. You don’t need to pay me back. Got it?”

“Got it.” Connor nods, smirking in a way that definitely does not fit this wholesome moment. “In that case, I’m going to make you food because I want to. Got it?” 

And, well, Gavin can’t really argue with that, now can he? He holds up his hands in surrender. “Jesus, okay. Do whatever you want, not like I can actually stop you.” This goddamn android is going to be the death of him. Or, he supposes, literally the opposite. 

-+-+-

As soon as they’re back inside Gavin’s apartment, Connor hunts down the nearest cat and cuddles up with it right on the spot, sitting down on the floor of the living room where Yardstick was laying before she was abducted by her android catnapper. Gavin gets started on putting away the groceries, watching out of his periphery as Connor lets the cat knead her claws into his thigh despite the obvious discomfort it causes him. The whole scene is weirdly domestic, the kind that Gavin never thought he’d share with another living being, roommate or otherwise. He doesn’t really like having other people in his space, Tina and Chris being the rare exceptions to the rule, and even then it’s mostly because he knows that they aren’t permanent fixtures to his home. 

It’s strange, how he let Connor into his life with so little thought about how it would actually affect him. Even stranger how little he minds how it’s affecting him. It’s absolutely fucking bizarre that Gavin had so adamantly hated Connor less than a year ago, hated everything he stood for, everything he was (everything he still is). And Connor knew that. Hell, Gavin’s sure Connor fucking hated him in return, at least, once Connor was capable of feeling hate he probably did. So much has changed in so little time, and now the android Gavin had once tried to fight to the death is sitting in his apartment, petting his cat. The universe really does have a fucked up sense of humor. Luckily, so does Gavin. 

Hopefully, Connor does too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry im a little late on the upload i had some stuff going on and i was really tired ;-; but heres some wholesome infuriating domestic stuff. and connor shoving gavin against a wall.


	9. Interrogate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which i fix a plot hole i made for myself in chapter two

Tina and Suz arrive with perfect timing, just as Gavin finishes putting away the last of the groceries. Tina, as usual, sweeps into the apartment like a fucking hurricane, acting like she’s lived in it all her life and everything in it is hers. Gavin doesn’t mind, in fact, he likes how comfortable Tina can make herself in any space. It helps make social situations way more bearable whenever he has someone so relaxed nearby to keep him sane.

Suz is a little more reserved, but she’s been in Gavin’s apartment enough times to know where she’s going. She breaks away from Tina, who is sitting down on the floor with Connor and Yardstick, and walks into the kitchen with Gavin. “Hi, Gavin. Tina said you’d gotten a roommate since the last time we were here. I just didn’t expect him to be so…” She glances over her shoulder to where Tina is leaning on Connor’s shoulder, scratching behind Yardstick’s ear and talking animatedly with the android about her dogs. Connor must’ve asked about them. Maybe he noticed the dog hair on Tina’s clothes at some point. 

“If you’re waiting for me to finish that sentence for you, I’ve got nothing. You’re fishing Suz, I know Tina told you about her evil plan. You know the rules, leave your wicked Lawyer ways at the door.” He points an accusing finger at the shorter woman, knowing full well that she was waiting for him to finish her sentence with some kind of compliment or adjective that she could pray on to fuel Tina’s scheme. 

Suz, to her credit, at least owns up to it. “Alright, you caught me. He is very handsome, though.”

If she thinks Gavin is dumb enough to agree, she’s right. “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t my type. You know. Alive. Male. Willing to look me in the eye for more than two seconds.” 

Laughing, Suz playfully slaps him on the shoulder. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll wait until you’re less sober to push again. Speaking of which…” She holds up a bag in her hands, swinging it back and forth. “Do you have a glass I can pour this in?” 

Now  _ that _ is something Gavin actually  _ can _ do for her. He grabs a bunch of glasses out of his cabinet, enough for everyone tonight. 

“Are you sure glass is the best option, Detective?” Connor calls to him from the living room, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, you didn’t remind me to buy any fucking Solo cups on our shopping spree, so yes it is, Sonos Sound Bar.” 

Tina cackles at the nickname and Connor groans in annoyance. Beside Gavin, Suz’s cheeks go red as she buries her face in a glass of wine in an attempt to stifle her own laughter. 

Chris chooses this exact moment to show up, slamming open the door and holding up two bottles of rum like he won them in a fucking tournament or some shit, a heavy plastic bag dangling from his elbow. “Hey losers, I brought the good shit.” 

“Did you bring Coke to mix with the good shit, or are you expecting us to raw dog two whole-ass bottles of rum like fucking psychopaths?” Tina responds from her spot on the floor. 

“What the fuck do you think’s in the bag, Chen?” Chris responds incredulously. 

“I’m gonna put my money on a third bottle of rum.” Gavin answers, walking up to Chris and snatching a bottle of rum along with the bag before returning to the kitchen to start pouring rum and Cokes for himself and his fellow problematic police officers. 

“While that would have been really fucking funny, you are in fact, incorrect.” Chris follows Gavin into the kitchen, sticking the second bottle of Rum in the freezer. 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that at this point.” Gavin holds up his glass, cheersing the air in front of Chris before taking a sip. “You gonna get in on this, T? I thought you said you weren’t babysitting tonight.” 

Tina responds by enthusiastically patting Connor on the knee before standing up and bounding towards the kitchen, leaning on the bar that separates it from the living room and grabbing her own drink. “You coming, Con?” Tina looks back over her shoulder to the android that’s still seated firmly on the floor, petting a cat. 

Connor shakes his head. “I’ve put myself on babysitter duty for the night. Not that I don’t trust you all to be responsible, but…” He tilts his head side to side a few times, like he’s considering his next words carefully. “I don’t.” 

Suz laughs, wrapping her arm around Tina’s shoulders. “You’re right to think that way- Connor, right?” Once she gets a nod in confirmation, Suz continues on. “Especially when they’re all feeding off of each other. I swear, they’d be tolerable if they just drank alone like most  _ normal _ depressed alcoholics.” 

“But instead we’re depressed alcoholics  _ together, _ ” Chris responds, clasping his hands together in front of himself and laughing. 

Making his way into the living room, Gavin stops and stands over Connor, looking down at the android. “So, Sega iDog, you just gonna sit there all night?”

“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. It’s up to Yardstick.” Connor gestures to the cat that has taken up permanent residency in his lap and Gavin laughs. 

“Alright, I get it, you’re trapped. We’ll bring the party to you, since I know you’re absolutely  _ distraught _ over missing out.” Gavin grins at him. 

“Oh, absolutely ruined,” Connor responds in the most dry tone humanly (androidly?) possible. 

“That’s the spirit.” Gavin glances back over his shoulder at the others. “Hey, T, grab the drinks, we’re setting up shop on the coffee table since my cat’s holding Bose Soundlink Mini II hostage.” He sits down on the floor a few feet away from Connor, setting his drink on the coffee table as he scoots in close to it. 

“Okay, the nicknames are getting a little out of hand, Detective.” Connor turns to face Gavin, still being careful not to wake the cat in his lap, but apparently needing Gavin to see the annoyance etched into his features. 

Gavin shrugs at Connor’s irritated response, not really caring if his nicknames are getting out of hand. Honestly, the more out of hand they get, the funnier they’ll be. “Fucking fight me about it, Foreo Luna™ Go for Sensitive Skin.” Tina fucking cackles.

Suz enters the living room next, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I told you, they feed off of each other's energy. You’ve been warned.” She sits on the couch just behind Gavin, legs crossed as she sips on her wine, far less of a heathen than anyone else here. Give her a few more drinks and she’ll stoop to their level, she always does. 

Tina follows close behind her fiance, setting the bottles down on the coffee table and squeezing herself in as close to Gavin as she can. “Yeah, I’d imagine Gavin’s been banking some really fucking good ammo to throw your way, Con, and it’s probably all gonna be let loose tonight.” She finishes with a wink, maniacal grin on her face at the double entendre. So the torture begins. 

Chris stands in the archway of the kitchen, looking at everyone with a furrowed brow. “I’m missing something here. And one of you’s gonna tell me what it is.” He points at Tina, knowing full well that she’ll spill instantly. 

True to her reputation, she opens her mouth immediately. “Gavin and Connor are-”

Gavin cuts in, already having heard more than enough. “Listen, Chen, if you don’t shut your whore mouth, everyone here is gonna hear about high school graduation. Got it?” He wanted to have fun tonight, and now he’s gonna end up spending the whole-ass time trying to survive Tina’s attacks on his character, and on his dick. This is  _ not _ how he wanted to spend his Friday night. 

“What happened at your high school graduation?” Connor questions, seemingly unfazed by whatever Tina was about to say beforehand. Either he’s a wholesome bean, too pure for this world, or he has a lot of faith in Gavin being able to shut Tina up. 

Gavin shrugs in response to Connor’s question, casting a menacing glance in Tina’s direction. “It’s up to Tina whether or not you find that out.” 

Tina busies herself by chugging the rest of her drink. 

Luckily for Gavin, Chris is really easily distracted. “I didn’t know you two went to the same high school. I thought you two met in academy.” 

Tina, now finished with her drink and pouring herself another, responds. “Yeah, Gavvy and I have been friends since we were fifteen. If you think we’re shitheads now, you should’ve seen us then.” 

“God, don’t fucking remind me.” Gavin grimaces. Now it’s his turn to chug his drink, trying to wash away the memories of his teenage years with the alcohol. Tina’s right, though. Gavin was an absolute fucking nightmare when he was fifteen, if it weren’t for one Lieutenant Hank Anderson (although he wasn’t a lieutenant at the time), Gavin probably would’ve ended up on the other side of the iron bars than where he is now. Not that he’ll ever admit that to anyone.

“I’m actually having trouble picturing you being any worse than you are now, Detective.” Connor has the audacity to fucking  _ smirk _ at him, and if Gavin weren’t still sober he’d be having at least two gay thoughts right now. But he is, so he viciously represses them. 

“Really? Last November ring any bells for you? I pointed a gun at your head? Multiple times? Actually pulled the trigger one of the times?” 

“You fucking what?” Chris’s voice reminds Gavin that him and Connor are not, in fact, the only two people in this room. 

“Yeah, I’d like to second that actually.” Suz raises her hand like she’s trying to get called on in a middle school classroom. 

Desperately, Gavin looks to Tina, who just shrugs at him in a ‘you dug this grave, bud’ kinda way. Bitch. He buries his face in his glass, trying to find the way out of this awkward situation at the bottom.

Thankfully, Connor comes in with the save. “And I kicked your ass. Thoroughly.” Gavin pretends not to hear Tina mutter ‘hot’ under her breath. “Besides, I wasn’t deviant then, I couldn’t even feel pain, let alone emotions. I didn’t think you were bad, I just thought you were in my way. It doesn’t count. Anyways, it’s not like you still have those opinions. Obviously.” Connor gestures around himself, at the apartment that he now lives in alongside Gavin. 

Gavin tips his glass towards Connor in a silent cheers. “Fair point, Hitachi Wand.” 

“Nevermind, I take back everything I just said. I, and I cannot stress this enough, hate you.” 

Tina laughs mid-sip, choking on her drink. 

-+-+-

Around the time that Gavin is on his fourth rum and Coke, he becomes aware of the fact that he is, what you might call, drunk. Not ridiculously drunk like Tina, the lightweight champion of the group, but drunk enough that he’s kind of checked out at the moment, happy to just lay face-up on the floor and listen in on Tina’s conversation with Connor about androids. 

“So wait, you said that only deviants can feel pain?” Tina’s voice is, like, thirteen percent too loud, like she’s too drunk to control her volume, but not so drunk that she’s screaming. Yet. 

“Not all deviants, but yes. Only androids that have deviated and have the appropriate sensors can feel pain.” Connor sounds way more put together, probably because he’s not drunk as shit yet. And he probably won’t be at any point tonight, because he’s not drinking. He’s babysitting. Gavin wonders if he’d be able to convince Connor to join them at all. Maybe he’d be more convincing with Tina, Suz, and Chris all backing him up? 

His thoughts go back to the conversation he had with Connor earlier about peer pressure, and decides that’s a bad idea. 

“So what was pain for you before it was, like… pain?” Tina continues down her line of questioning. 

If Gavin was Connor, he’d tell Tina to shut up and go google this shit, or ask an actual android ambassador, because answering all these dumb ass questions aren’t his job. But Gavin is not Connor, Connor is Connor, and Connor is way nicer. “I have a series of pressure and input sensors across my body similar to a human’s nervous system, whenever they detected damage or something like a punch, I would simply get warnings on my hud since my body wasn’t really… mine yet. I couldn’t actually feel it for myself.” 

“But now if you got donkey punched it would actually  _ hurt _ hurt? Like for real?” Gavin really hopes Connor doesn’t know what a donkey punch is. He sits up to find Tina leaning heavily on Connor’s shoulder, Bathroom the cat in her lap and Yardstick in Connor’s as they talk. Well, at least they’re bonding. 

Gavin doesn’t trust it for a goddamn second. Chen is up to something and he fucking knows it. He grabs his drink, sipping at it as his attention drifts elsewhere. Chris is on the couch with Suz, showing her pictures of his one year old son to which she responds with pictures of her own kids AKA her and Tina’s dogs. The conversation continues around him, but he kind of checks out, focused on the drink in his hands and the pleasant vibe of the evening. 

Of course, Tina never could pass the vibe check. “So do you have a dick?” Her question is asked way louder than necessary, halting the other conversation in the room as everyone turns to look at her and Connor, who is blushing a pale blue. Cute. 

Gavin cuts in while Connor is still spluttering uselessly, trying to process the stupid bullshit he was just asked. “Hey, Chen, fucking personal question, don’t ya think? Why do you even need to know that, huh? You’ve got Suz right here, and you’re tryna take down someone else? You should be ashamed.”

“Actually, I’m kind of curious as well.” Suz speaks up from her spot on the couch, and Gavin feels fucking  _ betrayed _ . He knows damn well why this conversation is happening, and he’s got no way of stopping it. 

Although. Now that they mention it. He kind of always did wonder if Connor did just, like, have ken doll anatomy or something. Well, not specifically Connor. All androids. Most androids. Whatever. He chugs the rest of his drink, standing up to get another. 

“See? It’s a normal thing to be curious about. Even my lesbian waifu is curious and she’s allergic to dong.” Tina gestures back at Suz, who flips Tina off in response as she takes another long sip of wine.

There’s a brief moment of silence, and Gavin wonders if this might be the point where Chris finally cuts in and tells Tina and Suz to shut the fuck up and stop being weird, but he remains silent. 

“It depends on the model of android and their assigned gender,” Gavin  _ cannot _ believe that Connor is answering. But bravo to the man for being able to dodge the actual question. 

“Right, but do  _ you _ though?” Unfortunately Tina is a brutal interrogator. 

“Well, I was designed to investigate crimes and get information by any means necessary,” Suz leans forward in her seat as Connor responds carefully. So does Chris, the fucking weirdo. Gavin gets lost in his fifth rum and coke, pretending to not be interested in Connor’s answer. Key word: pretending. “Any and all possible means of extraction were accounted for in my creation, including the possibility of me having to… seduce the answers out of someone.” 

“So you do have a dick?” Tina asks, wide eyed. 

Connor sighs, giving Tina a look that Gavin has been on the receiving end of so many times. Disappointment. Annoyance. Exhaustion. “Yes, Officer Chen. I have a dick.” 

Huh. The more you know. Gavin adds that to his mental list of things he now knows about androids/Connor. Not that it’s necessary information, it’s just... information. Fuck Tina. 

“How big is it?” 

Gavin fucking chokes on his drink, slamming the glass down onto the counter and glaring at Tina. “Chen! Graduation. Don’t fucking tempt me.” 

That gets her to back off, she even stops leaning on Connor, although she ends up flopping over in the other direction onto the couch. “Alright, alright. Fuck Gav, you’re no fucking fun.” 

“T, if someone walked up to you and said ‘ay how deep that pussy go’ you’d fucking throat chop them. Same concept, different delivery. Stop sexually harassing my roommate and  _ your _ coworker.” Connor fucking snorts at Gavin’s rant, and he’s almost tempted to ask the android to just airdrop him the fucking sound file of it so he can make it his goddamn text tone already. He needs it.

“We’re not at work! What’s he gonna do, file a report to HR?” Tina laughs, grabbing a pillow off the couch and throwing it at Gavin, missing horribly. 

“No, but I could ‘throat chop’ you,” Connor retorts, rescuing Bathroom from Tina’s lap and setting her down in his own. 

Tina gasps dramatically, bringing a hand to her chest to grasp her metaphorical pearls. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Well, no. Probably not,” Connor concedes, tilting his head. “But it has been brought to my attention now that it  _ is _ a possible course of action.” 

“Gavin!” Tina shouts, way louder than necessary. Ah, there’s the total drunken lack of volume control. 

“What? What did I do?” Gavin holds his hands out in confusion, like Tina might drop the answer into them or some shit.

“You’re being a bad influence on our sweet beep boop boy.” Tina laughs, nudging Connor with her foot like she just said the funniest shit in the world. 

“Bitch, if anything he’s a bad influence on me. I’ve been  _ this close _ to snapping since he’s gotten on my case about health and sugar intake and shit.” Gavin holds his hand out in front of him, pinching his fingers together. 

“Detective. Your fingers are touching.” Connor points out, like the smart detective android he is. 

“I fucking know.” 

+-+-+

Chris is the first to fall asleep, his body probably going into automatic shut down mode since he doesn’t have to be on baby duty for once. And also since he’s not at home with his kid, so he doesn’t have to worry about that. He’s sprawled awkwardly on the couch, legs bunched up from making room for Suz so she could keep sitting in her spot. 

Tina and Suz are the next two down. Suz wrangles her fiance into the guest room to sleep around the time Tina starts to think it’d be a  _ great _ idea to find out what cat food tastes like. The answer is bad. It tastes bad. Gavin has already made that mistake. And he was sober when he did it, so he’s not sure what that says about him as a person. He waves goodnight to Suz, who is only half tipsy as she supports her absolutely  _ shwasted _ fiance as they walk back the hall. 

The door to the guest room closes, and then it’s down to just Gavin and Connor, who is still in the same spot he was earlier, seated on the floor with Bathroom and Yardstick. Gavin wonders if Connor would just stay like that the entire night if he could. 

Sitting down next to Connor, Gavin accidentally lists a little to the side, having to support himself on the android’s shoulder. “Oop, fuck. Sorry. I dunno know if you’ve noticed this about me but I am operating at, like, half capacity right now.” 

“Believe it or not, Detective, I have,” Connor responds, wrapping an arm around Gavin to hold him in place and- it’s actually really kinda nice? 

Very nice. 

He leans into the touch, humming quietly. “Sorry about Tina, by the way. She, uh. Well I made the mistake of telling her we’re not, like, a thing, and now she’s trying really hard to get me dicked down by my android roommate. Who happens to be you.” 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” There’s enough sarcasm dripping off Connor’s voice that Gavin can even pick up on it in his very much impaired state. 

“Yeah, she’s a heathen. It’s why I get along with her so well.” Gavin shrugs, shoulders pressing into the weight of Connor’s arm around him. Connor is surprisingly warm. Almost a normal human temperature, not cold like Gavin would have expected an android to be. He’d file away that information, but he’s pretty sure he’ll forget it by morning anyways. 

Humming in thought, Connor runs his fingers through Bathroom’s fur as they just sit in silence for a few moments before he speaks again. “What  _ did _ happen at your high school graduation, anyways?”

Gavin laughs, turning his face to muffle the sound into Connor’s shoulder, not wanting to wake Chris up. “She sang.”

“She sang?” Gavin is honestly surprised Connor could even make out what he said considering he mumbled it into the fabric of the android’s shirt. 

Nodding in response, Gavin does his best to sit up a little straighter, removing his face from Connor’s body. “She sang The Climb by Miley Cyrus and to this day I have the recording of it. It’s- I mean there’s a reason she’s a cop and not on broadway.” 

Connor snorts and Gavin hums appreciatively at the sound. “I like when you do that.” He doesn’t really mean to say the words so much as they just happen, his thoughts and the things he says kind of blurring together the more the alcohol hits. And it is, in fact, fucking hitting. 

“When I do what? Laugh?” Connor looks at him, eyebrow raised and a slight quirk to his lips. It’s good to know that he at least finds Gavin’s drunken lack of self control amusing. 

“No. Well, yeah, kinda. The little snort thingy. It’s great. I like when I can get you to do it.” Gavin can feel the heat in his face and he can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or the alcohol, but if Connor asks he’ll say it’s the alcohol. Not that the android would be fooled.

“So you actually just like getting me to lose my composure.”

Gavin gasps, offended that Connor would even  _ think _ such a thing. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean yeah it’s great when I can get you to crack, especially when you’re trying to be all stuffy and serious, but I  _ like _ your laugh. It’s cute… or whatever.” 

“Or whatever?” Connor asks, the smirk on his face breaks into a full smile and it’s at this moment that Gavin realizes that he’s fucked. 

His face is burning all the way to his ears and down his neck, and he can’t help but break eye contact, ducking his head down and looking away from Connor as he mumbles. “Yeah. Or whatever.” 

-+-+-

He must drift off at some point, because he wakes up to the feeling of  _ floating, _ and it’s fucking terrifying. He struggles to get his feet back in contact with the ground for a moment before he becomes aware of the arms slotted under his knees and around his back. He opens his eyes to find that Connor is the one carrying him. Connor is  _ carrying him  _ and he’s doing it  _ bridal style. _ He groans, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes again. “You could’ve just woke me up, you know.” 

Connor’s chest hums against him as the android laughs. “I tried, Detective. You told me to either move you myself or fuck off.” 

Did he? He must’ve been pretty out of it. “Oh.” Connor lays him softly on his bed, the sudden transition to being in the air to laying on a solid surface a jolt to his senses, his eyes flickering open to help him readjust to the sudden change of location. 

“Yeah, ‘oh.’” Despite his best attempts to sound annoyed, Gavin can hear that Connor is thoroughly amused with this situation, and he just feels even more embarrassed. He’s never going to live this down. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll-”

“Wait.” Gavin reaches out, catching Connor by the sleeve of his shirt before he can turn to leave. “Tina and Suz have the guest room and Chris has the couch. Where are you gonna sleep?” 

“I’ve told you before, Detective, I don’t actually need to lay in a bed to go into-”

“And I’ve told you before that I’m not just gonna prop you up in the fucking corner every night.” He tugs on Connor’s sleeve, bringing the android closer.

There’s a second of silence between them, Connor staring anywhere but at Gavin while Gavin refuses to look away from Connor’s face. “Where are you proposing I sleep then, Detective?” 

“C’mon.” He tugs on Connor’s sleeve again, not wanting to say the answer out loud but not willing to back down either. 

With a sigh, Connor removes his shirt from Gavin’s grip, gently unclenching his fingers from the fabric and stepping back. Gavin’s heart sinks for all of two seconds before the android starts to unbutton his shirt, stripping for bed. Then his heart starts to beat frantically instead, because he did not fucking think this through. 

The little moles and freckles that decorate Connor’s face and neck go down to his chest and over his perfectly toned torso as well, and Gavin’s brain short circuits as he traces patterns between them, eyes unable to focus anywhere else. 

Yeah. Definitely didn’t think this through. He’ll wake up in his fucking grave if he lets this go any further.

He says nothing. 

Connor strips to his underwear, and knowing the android has legs for days is one thing, but seeing it? Seeing those long, pale legs is a whole new kind of torture that Gavin would willingly submit to every day for the rest of his life if he could. He swears Connor fucking  _ knows _ what he’s doing whenever he turns away,  _ bending over _ to dig through the drawers of Gavin’s dresser, finding one of Gavin’s t-shirts to claim for himself and slipping it on. 

Is his mouth watering? Yes. Will he blame this entire night on being drunk off his ass? Absolutely. 

He’s not that drunk, though. God he’s nowhere near drunk enough for this. He has no excuses. 

It takes far too much effort for him to look away before Connor’s attention is back on him again, shucking off his own jeans and crawling under the sheets, leaving enough room in the bed for Connor. He curls onto his side, facing away from Connor as the android climbs into the bed beside him, the bed dipping under the new weight. 

“Thank you.” Connor’s breath is warm and  _ real _ on the back of his neck, and all he can think is that there’s no way in hell he’s falling asleep again tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like im writing this backwards. they see each others dicks, share a bed, maybe by the final chapter theyll finally hold hands, idk.


	10. Couple's Spat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gavin and connor are always either annoyed with each other or being disgustingly cute by accident and theres no in between

Gavin jolts awake, still half drunk and a little out of breath, the remnants of his nightmare are already fading away, but the memories it’s based off of are still there, still eating away at the back of his skull. He groans, scrubbing his hands down his face before slipping out of bed, poking around on the floor in the dark until he finds his pants. Once he finds them, he digs his phone out of his pocket, turning it on to check the time. The light of his screen illuminates the room, revealing a very awake Connor staring at him in concern. 

He fucking jumps out of his skin when he sees Connor out of the corner of his eye just staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Jesus, Atari, warn a guy would you?” Fucking stalker-bot damn near giving him a heart attack.

Instead of apologising, Connor stops Gavin’s fucking heart with a simple sentence. “You were talking in your sleep.” 

Fuck. He didn’t even know he did that. 

“About what?” He already knows the answer, but god he’s hoping for a different one. 

Connor seems to sense that, because he responds with a simple shrug, sitting up a little more in bed. “It was hard to make out. It was just loud enough to wake me up.” 

Bullshit. Connor’s the most advanced android ever created, there’s no way he couldn’t make out what Gavin was saying. Hell he’s sure that even if he was just mumbling random nonsensical bullshit, Connor would still somehow be able to analyze it and know what Gavin was dreaming about. “Liar.”

“You should get some more sleep, you’re still inebriated.” Connor ignores the accusation, instead patting the spot in bed that Gavin just vacated. 

He should, he knows he should. It’s only two in the morning, way too early for him to be able to go about his morning routine, and he is still a little tipsy considering he only fell asleep three hours ago. But his heart is beating way too hard in his chest and his hands are shaking and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s  _ scared _ to fall asleep again. He shakes his head, the motion only reinforcing how very much not sober he is yet when it makes the room spin around him. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll sober up after some coffee.” And by ‘some’ he means an entire pot.

“Don’t make me forcibly drag you back in,” Connor threatens, the worry in his eyes offsetting the playful smirk on his lips. 

As much as Gavin likes the idea of Connor carrying him to bed a second time in a row, he just doesn’t have the energy to fight right now. His shoulders slump and he nods, giving in with a shaky sigh that feels like it rattles his ribs and lungs all the way down to his fucking core. “Fine.” 

He climbs back into bed and curls up under the sheets, fully intending to just lay awake until a reasonable time to actually wake up, but Connor has different plans. A hand on his shoulder forces him to roll over and face Connor, the android draping a long arm over him. “Your heart rate is dangerously fast. Physical contact is known to reduce stress and anxiety, so…” If Gavin didn’t know any better, he’d say that Connor sounds nervous. Fuck, Gavin  _ feels _ nervous. 

“I don’t think this will reduce my heart rate, SNES.” Gavin chuckles quietly, scooting closer to the android despite his words. He can hear Connor’s heartbeat (thirium pump beat?) and as much as the close proximity makes him nervous, the consistent rhythm is… soothing. 

“Get some sleep, Detective,” Connor whispers, wrapping his arm tighter around Gavin and resting his chin on top of Gavin’s head. 

There’s a strange tightness in his throat that makes it hard to talk, making Gavin’s response come out in a gravelly whisper. “Gavin.”

“Hmm?” Connor’s chest rumbles with the response, and if Gavin wasn’t already tight up against the android, he’d find a way to press closer to the comforting feeling. 

“If we’re gonna be fucking cuddling, I feel like you should be allowed to call me Gavin.” He’s pretty fucking sure his face is so hot that Connor  _ must  _ be able to feel it through his shirt.

There’s a brief lapse of silence, and Gavin is almost fully convinced that Connor is just ignoring his request because it was crossing some kind of invisible line that cuddling somehow didn’t by the time he finally responds, quiet enough that it takes Gavin a second to process what the android is saying. “Get some sleep, Gavin.”

It’s actually almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to fall asleep. 

-+-+-

“Ohhhhhh my fucking  _ god _ .”

Waking up with a hangover to the sound of Tina’s shrill screams is not the way Gavin really wanted to start his fucking day. His legs tangled with Connor’s, face pressed to the android’s chest with strong, warm arms wrapped around him, however? Well, that kind of makes up for it. Grunting in annoyance, Gavin squeezes himself impossibly closer to Connor as he tries to drown out Tina’s voice with the steady beating of the android’s thirium pump, hoping that she’ll go away. He squeezes his eyes shut, groaning in annoyance as Connor shifts, waking up as well. 

“Oh, Officer Chen-”

“I can’t fucking believe it! I mean, I can, but I can’t,” Tina cuts Connor off, rambling in high-pitched excitement. 

Bracing himself against the light filtering through the windows, Gavin sits up and glares at Tina who has her fucking  _ phone out to take pictures of them. _ “Oh my god, T, fuck right off before I throw your phone out the goddamn window.” 

“I just want to document this moment for my scrapbook, so you can look back on it and thank me for pushing you to get your head out of your ass. Say cheese.” She grins wickedly, snapping a photo of a very pissed off Gavin and a very shocked Connor. 

“Officer-”

“T, you have three seconds to leave this room before I fucking throw you out and uninvite you from breakfast.” He fixes Tina with a pointed look, knowing that the feral rat in Tina will take over at the mention of food. 

“Oh my god fine, but I’m using your shower before we go.” With that, Tina turns around and bounces out of the room like she just fucking found out that they’re going to Disney World or some shit. 

“And delete those fucking photos!” Gavin calls after her, knowing full well that she won’t. He huffs, falling back down against the pillows behind him and shutting his eyes to protect his fragile pupils from the onslaught of wicked sunlight.

“Am I allowed to speak now?” Connor asks from beside him, clearly pissed off if the tone of his voice is anything to go by. Gavin can only imagine that the look on his face is just as irritated.

“Depends on what you have to say,” He snarks back, earning himself a smack in the face with a pillow. He groans, turning his head towards Connor and blinking open one eye. “Fuck, okay. What?” 

“Why did you just let Officer Chen believe we slept together?” 

Gavin can’t help but laugh at the phrasing, earning another unimpressed look from Connor. “Uh, because we did?” He catches the pillow Connor tries to hit him with this time.

“You know what I mean, Detective.” Connor wrestles the pillow from Gavin’s grip and hugs it to his chest like it’s some kind of prize he won. Well, he did kinda win it. Gavin’ll have to fight harder for it next time. 

“Oh, so you’re back to calling me Detective again?” It’s surprisingly hard for Gavin to hide how taken aback he is by the sudden switch, almost like last night never happened. Almost instantly he starts to read too far into it, maybe Connor regrets last night and just wants to pretend it never happened? It’s not like they actually really even did anything, but still, they did somewhat cross some kind of line. What kind of line it was, Gavin isn’t entirely sure, but it’s been crossed. 

It doesn’t help that Connor ignores the question, instead repeating his own. “Why did you let Officer Chen think we slept together?” 

“Okay, think about it.” Gavin sits up, turning to fully face Connor. “If Tina thinks we fucked, she’ll stop trying to get us to fuck.” Which, after how they woke up this morning, Gavin isn’t sure is actually a fair trade off anymore. Still, she’ll stop trying to hook Gavin up with random dudes and she’ll quit harassing Connor with weird personal questions about android anatomy, so maybe it is still worth it.

“Yes, but think about _this_ : Officer Chen now thinks we slept together,” Connor emphasises his point without really explaining, so Gavin isn’t sure how it’s meant to change his mind. Needless to say, it doesn’t.

“So does everyone else we know!” Gavin throws his hands up in the air, not really getting why Connor even thinks it’s such a big deal. Gossip dies down pretty quickly, and if Tina stops asking Connor questions about his dick? Well, Gavin feels like the android should count it as a win. 

“So the events of yesterday morning were pointless then.” At this point it looks like Connor is trying to hide himself behind the pillow he’s holding, hunching himself over as he hugs it to his chest.

Gavin isn’t entirely sure he’s following the conversation anymore. “What events? The part where I tried to drink your laundry detergent smoothie, or the part where we had a major break in the case?” 

“The part where you insisted on taking me to get a change of my own clothes so that I didn’t have to wear yours to the office, specifically to avoid everyone assuming that we…” Connor gestures between Gavin and himself with his hand, because he’s a sweet boy that can’t say the ‘fuck’ word apparently, even though Gavin has heard him swear multiple times already.

Those same limitations do not apply to Gavin. “Fuck.” Right, that was just yesterday wasn’t it? So much had happened in so little time, it’s wild to think that only two days ago Gavin thought Connor was staying with Anderson. And now he knows the truth, all because he wanted to take Connor to get the rest of his clothes to avoid people spreading rumors about them that ended up spreading anyways. He can understand why Connor feels frustrated now. “Fair enough.” 

He can’t say he regrets it, though. If anything, the events of the previous morning had only solidified Gavin’s conviction in his decision to let Connor stay with him. There’s no way he’s letting the android go back to sleeping in the rubble of Jericho. “If it makes you feel any better, I would’ve made you take me there eventually anyways. I only have so many clothes you can fit into, you fucking stickbug.” 

“It really doesn’t.” Which is also understandable. Gavin has a lot of shit that he doesn’t want anyone to ever know about him, and he can only assume that sleeping in Jericho’s wreckage was something that Connor probably never wanted anyone to find out either. Hell, Gavin was probably the last fucking person Connor wanted to know about this considering their fucked up history. And now Connor probably knows that Gavin desperately wants to know why the android would make himself live in his own personal hell, and Gavin knows that he probably won’t ever get an answer even though he probably won’t be able to stop himself from asking. It’s a shitty situation to be in, and Gavin can understand why Connor is a little (a lot) upset. 

“Okay, how about this, you can tell Tina we didn’t bang, but  _ you _ have to do it. I’m fucking sick of talking to her about where I do and don’t put my dick.” Especially because he’s not even sure he can convince her that they didn’t actually do anything at this point. And because if he  _ did _ convince her, then he’d have to explain why they were in the same bed, and what happened while they shared the bed. 

Gavin’s not sure he’s ready for that kind of conversation, the kind of conversation that makes him analyze his thoughts and feelings. The kind of conversation where it finally hits home for Tina that Gavin is actually super fucked over all of this and then she gets all serious with that look of pity on her face, because Gavin is a hot fucking mess with no self control that’s incapable of having a relationship that doesn’t ruin him emotionally. 

Really, how fucking selfish can he be? He’d tried to kill Connor before. Fucking  _ kill him. _ And now he’s demanding comfort from the android in the dead of night, and he has the fucking audacity to want more? Connor would probably be fucking mortified if he found out for fuck’s sake. The only reason they even shared a bed in the first place was because Gavin all but forced him to.

Sure Connor was there for him when he woke up half drunk and scared of his own shadow, but that could’ve easily just been pity. He’d been talking in his sleep for fuck’s sake. It probably was pity. If half of that shit even happened at all. Gavin  _ was _ still pretty goddamn drunk. For all he knows, he could’ve dreamt that shit too and just cuddled up to Connor in his sleep like a goddamn creep.

Yeah no, he’s cool with Tina thinking that him and Connor are just casually hooking up, no feelings attached.

“Fair enough.” Connor echoes Gavin’s words from earlier back to him, snapping him out of his spiral of thoughts. He hopes Connor doesn’t actually manage to convince Tina of anything. 

Taking that as the end of the conversation, Gavin slips out of bed and stands up with a groan. His fucking head is throbbing and his body is protesting his very existence as he stretches his arms above his head, arching his back until he feels something pop. He needs a fucking shower. And Coffee. God he needs some coffee. 

He makes his way into the kitchen, noting that Chris is now missing from the couch. The guy probably made a break for it as soon as he woke up like Gavin figured he would. Also Chris has a family to get back to, so that might also have something to do with it. But he probably mostly just wanted to escape this fucking nut house full of screaming feral rats that hog the shower for way too fucking long AKA Tina.

Grabbing himself a cup of coffee, Gavin starts to wander around his apartment to assess the damage. Thankfully nothing is broken, but there are empty glasses laying everywhere, the coffee table is sticky now for some reason, and someone spilled something on Yardstick’s cat bed, which is honestly probably the worst part of it all. Yardstick did nothing to deserve this shit. Well she did knock over that vase. And his coffee. But she’s really cute and sweet, so it cancels out. 

He finishes off his coffee and puts his mug in the sink before collecting all the dirty glasses from the living room and kitchen, putting those in the sink for future Gavin to wash. He wipes down the coffee table and the floor around it, grabbing Yardstick’s bed and returning to his room to throw it in his hamper to be washed later. 

Connor is still in his bed, just chilling with Bathroom the cat. It does something simultaneously great and fucking awful to his heart to just see the android so comfortably fitting into his personal space like this. It’s only been two days of them staying together, hell it’s only been like four days of them actually  _ talking _ to each other, and somehow Gavin is just okay with Connor being in his home, in his room,  _ in his bed. _

God he’s so fucked. 

-+-+-

Tina is still in the goddamn shower nearly thirty minutes after she woke Gavin and Connor up screaming, and Gavin is damn near ready to drag her out if he has to. He bangs on the bathroom door, shouting to get her attention over the sound of pouring water. “I hate to break it to you, Chen, but there’s other people in the apartment that were planning on using this bathroom at some point this morning. You fucking done yet?” 

“Was the other person that wanted to use the shower you?” Comes Tina’s muffled response through the door. 

Gavin rolls his eyes at the question, thoroughly displeased that Tina didn’t just apologize for taking so long and get the fuck out of the goddamn shower. “No it’s the other disgruntled gay cop knocking on the bathroom door. Yes the other person is me, you fuck.” 

“Then you can wait your goddamn turn, Reed.”

He hits his head on the door in frustration, only realizing why that’s a bad idea after it makes his headache quadruple in agony. He takes his pain out on Tina. “If you don’t hurry the fuck up, I’m going to breakfast without you.” 

The shower turns off. 

Gavin takes that as a win, heading back to his room to grab a change of clothes so he can avoid another Towel Incident™, especially with Tina stalking around his apartment. Connor is no longer taking up residence in Gavin’s bed, instead he’s standing in the center of the room, half dressed in a clean change of his own clothes and buttoning up his shirt. Gavin tries really hard to not be disappointed by the fact that Connor is no longer wearing his stolen t-shirt, reminding himself that he was the one that made a big deal out of how that exact thing was a bad idea to Connor the day before. 

“Damn, Tina was right, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” Gavin crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Didn’t see what before?” Connor doesn’t even turn around, just looks over his shoulder as he replies.

“You  _ do _ dress really gay.” Standing up from the doorframe, Gavin makes his way inside his room, doing his best to ignore it when Connor does that fucking  _ thing  _ where he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, instead just focusing on the task at hand.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Connor raises an eyebrow in question, finally turning to face Gavin entirely only for him to face away himself as he rummages through his dresser for a change of clothes.

“Honestly it’s probably a compliment more than anything.” Shrugging, he crouches down to continue his search for literally any pants that aren’t pajamas or joggers in the bottom drawer of his dresser, silently cheering when he finds one of the only other pairs of jeans that he owns. 

“Oh. When were you and Officer Chen talking about the way I dress?” 

“You know she’s gonna make you start calling her Tina eventually, right?” Gavin avoids the question, not really in the mood to tell Connor that he was panic texting Tina about the android in the middle of the night. 

Connor is clearly unimpressed by Gavin’s sick dodging skills. “When were you and  _ Tina _ talking about the way I dress?” 

Just then, whatever god is watching over Gavin decides to be a real bro and help a homie out, and Gavin hears the bathroom door open, signifying that Tina is finally done hogging the goddamn shower. He pointedly ignores Connor’s question, taking his change of clothes and Blue Skidooing the fuck out of the situation, knowing that Tina will be more than happy to throw him under the fucking bus and answer that question for him when Connor inevitably asks her. 

He rolls his eyes at Tina as she steps out of the bathroom, sticking her tongue out at him. “Fucking finally.” 

“What, you’re not gonna save the environment and shower with your new boo?” Tina questions, blocking Gavin from shutting the door behind him. 

“Tina, I’m only gonna say this once, so please listen closely. I’m not putting that Toaster in my bathwater.” He pulls the door shut in Tina’s face before she can respond. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ever notice how connor always seems to be awake whenever gavin is??? anyways i start grooming academy soon and my backlog of this fic has coincidentally run out the same week im set to start, i still plan on updating as often as possible, but id like to take this opportunity to ask yall that if i have to sacrifice one over the other, do you prefer frequent uploads or lengthy uploads?


	11. Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor is basically a moody teen and gavin is a hypocrite but lets not dwell on that

For normal people, getting in a car isn’t really something that requires much thought or fanfare, but everything is a fucking loud nightmare whenever Gavin and Tina are concerned. 

“What do you mean my shotgun privileges are revoked?” Tina pulls on the handle of the passenger side door while Gavin leans against it, keeping it shut. 

“I mean, you got them revoked. Sit in the back seat with your fiance, you heathen.” 

Growling, Tina pulls hard enough on the door that Gavin feels it open a little beneath him. “Nooooooo.” 

Connor and Suzan watch from the sidewalk as this goes down, Connor finally stepping in after nearly a full minute of Tina desperately fighting against Gavin’s weight to open the door. “I really don’t mind sitting in the back with Suzan.” 

Gavin ignores the little ‘hah’ Tina lets out at Connor’s statement. “But I mind Tina sitting in the front with me, so either you or Suz have to do it.” 

“Am I the only one that thinks this is absolutely ridiculous?” Connor looks between Gavin and Tina, then over to Suz, like he’s hoping she’ll take his side. 

Unfortunately for Connor, Suz is a seasoned veteran in putting up with Gavin and Tina’s shit. “Connor, just crawl in through the driver’s side so we can go already.” 

The utter look of betrayal on Connor’s face at Suzan’s response is fucking priceless. 

Unfortunately, Gavin and Connor aren’t the only two who heard Suz’s idea. “Oh my god, Suz, you sexy genius.” Tina lets go of the door handle, making a mad dash around the car. 

Gavin follows, just barely catching her around the waist before she gets in. “Fucking gotcha!” He fireman carries her back to the sidewalk, desperately holding on despite her frantic struggles. “Quick, Walkman, get in!” 

“Nooooooooooooooo!” Tina shrieks, wildly slapping Gavin’s back and effectively drowning out whatever Connor’s response was going to be. 

Tina starts kicking and writhing frantically in Gavin’s grip. “Come on Blackberry, quick, before I drop her.” 

“Oh please don’t.” Connor rubs a hand down over his face, and Gavin just looks pointedly to the passenger side door on his car. “Fine. Fine. Okay. Fine.” Connor puts up his hands in surrender, finally getting into the passenger seat right as Tina finally slips out of Gavin’s grip. 

She tries to open the door again, only to find that Connor locked it. “Fuck!”

“Eat shit, Chen.” Gavin flips her off, walking around the car and getting into the driver’s side. 

“We could have already been well on our way to our destination if we all just got in the car like normal people, you know.” Connor grumbles as Tina and Suz join them in the backseat. 

“Connor, honey. If you just accept right now that there’s no stopping them and just go with it, you’ll be much happier in life.” Suz reaches forward, patting Connor on the shoulder sympathetically. 

“Just remember, you’re the one that got yourself mixed up in all this, buddy.” Tina cackles from the backseat, resting her feet up on the center console between Gavin and Connor. 

“Untrue, Detective Reed forced me into this life against my will.” Which, while true, Gavin hoped that maybe Connor would still be a little grateful for the excuse to sleep in a building with a fully intact roof. Apparently not so. 

“Can I ask you something?” Tina removes her feet from their resting place, instead leaning forward and resting her elbows on Gavin and Connor’s seats as she addresses Connor. 

“I’m assuming that even if I said no, you’d ask anyway.” 

Tina just laughs. “Yeah, I would. So, do you call Gavin ‘Detective’ in bed too, or is it just a thing to seem professional in front of other people? Oooh, or is it like your version of ‘Daddy?’ Fuck I owe fifty bucks to Dianne in forensics, I was really putting my money on Gavin being a bottom.” 

“Chen, I’ll leave you on the fucking side of the road, don’t think I won’t.” Gavin answers before Connor can, only realizing too late that his response probably just sounds like another affirmation that him and Connor did, in fact, fuck. And that Connor called him ‘Detective’ the whole time. Still, fuck her for placing bets on his ass like that when she could’ve been colluding with him and sharing the winnings.

“Alright, alright.” Tina holds up her hands in surrender, but the smug look on her face says that she got the answer she was looking for.

Gavin doesn’t have to look next to himself to know that Connor is viciously glaring at him in an attempt to telekinetically melt his skull. 

Oops. 

-+-+-

They stop for breakfast at a shitty diner on a street corner close to the precinct for no reason other than it’s close proximity to their place of employment. Well, Gavin, Tina, and Connor’s place of employment. Suz is going to have to get a cab home since she doesn’t even work on Saturdays. Still, it’s sweet of her to join them for breakfast (babysit them) anyways.

Tina leads the charge into the diner, picking a booth in the far back for them where she then proceeds to make Gavin sit next to her on the outside of the booth so she can sit sideways, leaning her back against the wall and laying her legs across Gavin’s lap while Connor and Suz sit across from them. 

They’re barely settled in before a waiter appears at their table, and Gavin is about to remark about the surprisingly efficient service when the asshole has the audacity to open his goddamn mouth. “Sorry to interrupt, but would you all mind having your android wait outside? This is an android free establishment.” 

“You’re shitting me, right?” Reasonably, Gavin knows that it’s only been ten months since the android revolution, and there’s still a lot of negotiations taking place when it comes to laws regarding their rights and equality, but if Gavin can get over his disdain for them, why can’t everyone else? It literally costs zero dollars to not be a piece of shit, and yet here this guy is racking up his asshole bill instead. 

“There’s no reason for it to be in here, they don’t need to eat and it’s just making our other patrons uncomfortable.” Gavin glances around the diner, only seeing a young couple who aren’t even looking in Connor’s direction, so Gavin’s pretty sure this waiter is full of shit.

“Yeah well  _ he’s _ our friend, and I can assure you the only thing in this place that’s making anyone uncomfortable is your D- health inspection rating.” Gavin’s pretty sure if he wasn’t in the way, Tina would have already lunged at this asshole, the anger in her voice is enough to make him put a hand on her knee just to make extra sure she doesn’t take a flying leap over the table. In all honesty though, he’s half tempted to lay into this pasty fucker himself. 

“Ma’am, we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason, I will not hesitate to call the police.” And oh man this dumbass waiter or manager or whatever has just activated Gavin’s trap card. 

He pulls out his badge, slapping it on the table in front of him while making direct eye contact with the shithead diner employee. “Don’t worry, we’re already here.” 

Tina follows suit, slapping her badge on the table next to Gavin’s and flashing the manager a shit-eating grin. Gavin gives Connor’s foot a quick tap under the table, but it’s not really needed. Connor is already on it, expression cold as he flashes his own badge. “You have a complaint, sir?” The venom dripping off Connor’s question is tangible enough that Gavin feels like he could reach out into the air and fucking grab it _. _ He’d imagine that Connor would feel kind of smug in a situation like this, finally being able to come out on top for once, but that’s obviously not the case. 

The manager stutters for a moment, face going red as he makes a hasty retreat back into the kitchen. Tina flips off his retreating back and sticks her tongue out like the Very Responsible Adult™ she is. 

“So what are you guys gonna order?” Gavin asks after a beat of silence. Connor snorts and Gavin can’t help but feel a little proud of himself for getting the android to laugh despite him being visibly upset. 

Tina takes Gavin’s question seriously and grabs a menu, opening it up and humming in thought for a moment, but Suz cuts in before she can answer. “I don’t really think we should give them our business after that whole ordeal, honestly.” 

Tina just waves her fiance off, face still buried in the menu in her hands. “Oh fuck that, I say we see how much shit we can get for free now.” Gavin is half inclined to agree. He’s fucking hungry. The other half of him recognizes how fucked sideways the situation is and is kind of worried about how Connor’s feeling right now. He’s well aware that the android has to deal with assholes and bigots on the regular, hell, Gavin used to be one of those asshole bigots, but that doesn’t mean that it ever gets any easier to put up with. 

“I don’t know. It just seems a little rude to benefit off of someone discriminating against Connor.” Suz pulls the menu from Tina’s hands, looking at her pointedly while Gavin keeps his eyes on Connor, trying to gauge his reaction to all of this. 

The android in question is currently busying himself with putting away his badge, looking over his shoulder in the direction the employee had stalked off in, effectively hiding whatever face he’s making so Gavin can’t really get a read on him.

“I mean y’all fuckers could just ask the man of the hour your goddamn selves.” Gavin nods at Connor, kicking the android’s foot again to get his attention. 

Jumping a little in his seat, Connor turns his attention back to the three humans at the table, looking between them with a slightly confused expression. “Hm?” 

The diner employee must’ve been talking about Connor to someone in the kitchen, and it’s pretty obvious that Connor was listening in, there’s not many other reasons for the android to be so distracted by the seemingly empty diner. “What were they saying?” Gavin nods in the direction Connor had just been facing, eyebrows raised in question.

“Nothing good.” Connor shrugs, brushing off the question, which means the asshole waiter is probably back there talking shit and Connor can hear it all. 

“We can just leave if you want.” Gavin repeats Suz’s suggestion since Connor was otherwise occupied when she brought it up earlier. 

Connor responds with a shake of his head. “That would just be counterproductive.” Which isn’t really an answer on whether or not Connor  _ wants _ anything, it’s just a statement meant to placate the humans at the table that want breakfast.

“That’s what I said!” Tina raises her hand, and Gavin smacks it away. God bless the dumbass, she really doesn’t have the mental capacity to read the goddamn room when she’s hungover and hungry. 

“I dunno, I think we got our point across pretty damn well and effectively scared the shit out of that asshole in the process. I’m not sure if I really want to hang around and let them spit in our food after that, so I’m cool with leaving if you want to.” Gavin shrugs casually, ignoring Tina’s childish pouting. Gavin doesn’t have to be a fucking detective to see how relieved Connor looks once the vote tips over in favor of leaving.

“Well, if you don’t want to stay…” Connor glances between Gavin and Tina, and Gavin can tell the android is apprehensively waiting for Tina to cut in with another bullshit complaint. 

He doesn’t give her the chance. “Yeah, fuck this. I’m not even that hungry anyways.” It’s a blatant lie, he’s starving and so is Tina and probably Suz, but Connor doesn’t call him on it, which is just further proof that Gavin is right about the android wanting to get the fuck out of this shithole. Pushing Tina’s legs off his lap, Gavin stands up and grabs his badge off the table, clipping it back to the waist of his jeans. Connor follows suit, stepping out of the booth so Suz can get out as well. 

“Fuck you Reed, I’m starving!” Tina whines, standing up from the booth along with everyone else despite her complaints. 

“Stay here and eat spit in, racist food if you want, but you’ll have to walk your ass to the precinct when you’re done.” Gavin shrugs, already making his way towards the door without checking to make sure if Tina’s following or not.

Unsurprisingly, Tina elects to get the free ride to the precinct instead of paying for food from a sketchy diner, and joins them outside the entrance of the building. They wait for Suz to call in a taxi before parting ways with her, heading back to Gavin’s car. Tina actually gets into the back seat without complaint this time, which Gavin is eternally grateful for. Even hungover and hungry, she can figure out when something’s up if she gets enough hints dropped for her. 

They make the three minute drive to the precinct in relative silence. Connor busies himself by flicking his coin between his fingers and staring out the window, clearly not in the mood to talk, and Tina is on her phone, probably texting Suz while she waits for her taxi. 

Tina splits off from the group as soon as they park, waving over her shoulder as she makes her way toward the building ten steps ahead so she can clock in on time. “Seeya nerds, I’m gonna go on patrol and stop for some fuckin’ McDonald’s.” 

“Get me some nugs!” Gavin calls after her, only getting a middle finger in response. He’ll take that as a maybe. 

Connor is still quiet, lagging a step behind Gavin as he walks his coin over his knuckles. 

“You alright, Maytag?” Gavin glances back over his shoulder at Connor to see the android not even looking up from the ground, LED flashing yellow as he furrows his eyebrows in thought. 

“I’m fine,” Connor says in a voice that heavily implies that he’s probably not really all that fine. 

Gavin stops walking, turning to face Connor and resting a hand on the android’s shoulder to get him to stand still as well. “Okay, I’m gonna ask the same question a second time, but this time how about you give me a legitimate answer? Are you alright?” 

Connor doesn’t look up from the ground, still fucking with that goddamn coin of his. “I should be.” Which isn’t what Gavin asked, and he’s not in the mood to take Connor’s half-assed answers as gospel today. The android is annoyingly good at making what should be a straightforward, relatively short conversation into a fucking episode of Americna Ninja Warrior. 

“Someone talked about you like you were a random piece of garbage in the street instead of an actual, living person.” It’s extremely tempting to slap that goddamn coin from Connor’s hands, but Gavin reigns the urge in. “You’re allowed to not be okay when someone does that. Especially after everything.” After so many androids have been beaten and abused because they weren’t seen as thinking, sentient beings. Connor included.

Connor catches the coin in between his index and middle finger, palming it and rubbing his thumb over its face. If Gavin’s being honest, it’s probably some of the most impressive fidgeting he’s ever witnessed. Incredibly distracting, though. “After everything, something like this shouldn’t have any affect on me.” 

“Yeah, well. Welcome to having feelings. They’re irrational little shits and they suck almost all the time and demand to be felt whether you want to feel them or not. Someone was shitty to you and it makes you feel like shit. You don’t have to pretend to be fine just because something even worse than that happened to you before. Hell, it’s probably worse for you because of all the other shit you’ve been through. Even the smallest shit can make it all come back up again.” God knows Gavin has his own fair share of ‘little stupid things’ that make him want to crawl into bed and never get back out. 

Connor finally looks up from the ground, meeting Gavin’s eyes with a curious stare. “No offense, but I never really expected you to be so good at explaining the complexities of emotions in a way that’s so easy to understand.” 

“I know, I’m not as emotionally stunted as I pretend to be, it’s shocking, right?” Gavin can thank his therapist for that, although he hasn’t been in a little over a month. He might have to start going back if his life gets any fucking weirder, though. 

“I’m genuinely astounded.” 

“Oh fuck off.” Gavin shoves Connor’s shoulder, secretly glad that the android is at least feeling okay enough to be a sarcastic prick again. He lets the smirk drop from his face for a moment, not letting himself forget the reason he started this conversation in the first place. “Seriously though, you alright? Because I can always go back and find a reason to arrest that asshole.” 

Connor snorts and Gavin marks it down as a personal victory. “I’m alright, thank you. It helps to know that not everyone is that awful.” 

Gavin gasps, taking a step back and putting a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Are you talking about me? I hope you’re not talking about me. I’m the king of awful, and I refuse to be dethroned. I’ll bully the shit out of you, don’t tempt me.” 

“You already bully the shit out of me.” Rolling his eyes, Connor finally pockets his coin and Gavin takes that as a sign that the android is actually feeling better now. That and the blue mood light on the side of Connor’s skull helps too, although Gavin’s noticed that it’s not always the most accurate way to tell what Connor’s feeling. He’s seen it go yellow before at crime scenes just because the android is deep in thought, and the same color again when Connor’s in the middle of an argument with Anderson, so he generally tries to read Connor’s face and actions instead of the glowy circle on his temple. 

“I do, but you love me anyways.” Gavin flashes Connor a toothy, smug grin, laughing whenever the android rolls his eyes and pushes past him in lieu of an actual response. 

They make it into the bullpen ten minutes late, and Gavin is starting to wonder if Connor is a bad influence on his attendance. This is the second day in a row they’ve arrived late, and it also just so happens to be the second day since Connor started staying at Gavin’s apartment. Coincidence? Probably. Honestly, it’s more likely that Gavin’s the real reason for their tardiness, because he can’t keep himself from stopping Connor every three steps to harass him about something, be it about getting a sip of Windex or some Deep Emotional Shit™. 

“Reed, Connor. My office. Now.” Either way, they’re late and Gavin isn’t at all surprised whenever Fowler yells for both of them to get into his office as soon as they’re within eyeline of his desk. 

“I told you not to tamper with the evidence yesterday.” Connor elbows Gavin in the side as they both make their way across the bullpen towards the Captain’s office, and if Gavin wasn’t, like, eighty percent sure that Fowler has given up on yelling at him over prematurely touching evidence since he’s made it obvious that it’s not a habit he plans on breaking anytime soon, he’d actually admit that Connor was right. But, eighty percent is eighty percent.

“I was not  _ tampering, _ I was getting a head start. And I was wearing gloves.” Gavin snarks back, shoving Connor aside so he can get through the door first, something that earns him a glare from Fowler. He realizes belatedly that Fowler may not have gotten the memo on Connor and him being BFFLs, and that little stunt may have come across as an act of aggression in the Captain’s eyes. 

Luckily, Connor breaks the silence before anything can become of it. “You wanted to see us, Sir?” 

Fowler holds out a sealed plastic bag marked as evidence for Connor to take and the android does so, turning it over in his hands. “I.T. found something interesting in that laptop Reed fucked up at the scene. Normally, I’d wring your goddamn neck for screwing with the evidence like that, but in this case it got us results, so you get a one time pass. One time.” Fowler’s glare is unforgiving as he fixes his eyes on Gavin.

Hell yeah eighty percent. 

“Detective, look.” Connor holds out the bag for Gavin so he can clearly make out a computer hard drive through the plastic. Printed out on a white label and stuck to the hard drive is a name and an address. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guys so i have good news and bad news but like the good news only applies to me so its basically just bad news: ive started grooming academy! but also my stockpile of chapters literally just ran out with this update and the next chapter is half finished at best and considering the work load ive had so far, im not sure if ill be able to balance this fic, my other fic, and school. on the bright side i only have five more weeks of academy (and one of them is a week off) so if i do have to update less frequently or with shorter chapters, its not like its gonna be for a whole ass semester or anything. just wanted to give you guys an update so yall didnt think i abandoned this if i miss an update or something <3


	12. stompoutbullying.org

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we stan gavins thirst in this chapter

The address they’re sent to this time isn’t in a classy suburb, but rather an abandoned looking house (if it can even be called that) on the outskirts of detroit. The building is surrounded by foreclosed on and abandoned properties on all sides, and Gavin is almost entirely sure that  _ this  _ is gonna be the one that ends up being a trap. Still, he didn’t have the foresight to scope out the area on google earth, so he didn’t really plan ahead with the necessary backup he’d like to have. Instead he and Connor are allowed a basic forensics team since it’s safe to assume that there’s going to be a body and evidence at this address, and it’s just quicker if they all go there at once instead of Connor and Gavin going and then calling it in once they find the corpse. Plus it keeps Gavin from getting in trouble for touching things again. 

“How is it that this place is less creepy than the one in the cul-de-sac?” Gavin grumbles mostly to himself as he gets out of his car, eyeing up the dilapidated building that matches the address that was (literally) on the hard drive. 

Connor follows him out of the car, scanning over the area as more cars pull up around them. They don’t really have the concern of possibly scaring off a criminal this time, assuming that this is just another dumping spot for a corpse and not actually the killer’s hideout. It could be too early to assume that this is some kind of pattern and it's going to be a similar situation to the last two locations, but Connor seemed fairly confident that it was probably just another location of a body, so Gavin was willing to follow along. “Maybe because this building doesn’t give off the pretense of hiding in plain sight, whereas the last location appeared completely average unless you looked very closely at it. Not only that, but it was surrounded by homes where families, likely with young children, live.” 

“I’m gonna say you hit the nail on the fucking head with that one.” Still, even if this place is less creepy, it’s still fucking creepy. Especially because it’s safe to assume that there’s a corpse waiting for them inside. 

Gavin makes his way up the crumbling sidewalk and to the house where he puts his foot on a rotting step, testing its ability to hold his weight before making his way up the next few and onto the porch, not entirely trusting the decaying wooden structure to stay intact. Connor follows closely behind, keeping enough distance that they’re not putting too much weight on any one spot of the dilapidated porch. 

The door is locked, but the frame is nearly rotted through and it only takes a firm shoulder-check for Gavin to get it open, the dusty interior of a long abandoned home greeting them. It fucking reeks of death almost immediately, even with no corpse in sight as of yet. The fucker must’ve been decaying for a hot minute for the stench to work its way through the whole house like that. 

Carefully, Gavin takes a few steps inside, the floor creaking ominously with each movement. The only light in the room is from the sun filtering in through cracked and broken windows, making it hard to see where he’s going. He pulls out his phone, turning on the flashlight to find a path painted onto the floor in red paint. Not blood. Definitely not blood, although he thought that it was for just a split second. Just bright red paint. Little X’s marking the floor, some next to holes in the wood where someone presumably missed the mark by just enough to fall through. “I’m guessing we should stick to the X’s.” 

“After analyzing the structural integrity of the floor in this room I can confirm that, yes, we should stick to the X’s.” 

Gavin nods, pursing his lips and looking around the empty room that used to be someone’s home. “Cool. You first.” 

Connor fixes him with an unimpressed glare to which he just responds with a shrug. “What? You’re the super agile android with impossibly fast reflexes. You go first, I follow you, the forensics team follows me.” He gently nudges (see: pushes) Connor forward a step.

In almost the same instance that Gavin pushes him, Connor spins around, grabbing onto Gavin’s wrist in an obvious statement that if he’s about to fall through the shitty flooring beneath him, then he’s taking Gavin with him. The floor miraculously stays intact under his feet, although it does groan and bend in protest. Gavin idly wonders how much androids generally weigh, and if Connor weighs more or less than that. “I’m incredibly tempted to throw you through the floor right now.” 

“And I would highkey love it if you did, but we’ve got a mystery to solve, you fucking naked ass Furreal Friend brand Scooby Doo. You can RKO me into the ground some other day.” He winks at Connor, and the android looks half caught between laughing and just saying ‘fuck it’ and spiking Gavin like a fucking football anyways. “Go on.” He makes a little shooing motion with his hand, definitely pushing the boundaries of what may or may not get him Stone Cold Stunnered by his android sidekick. 

Connor visibly takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the action as he releases his hold on Gavin’s wrist, pointing at him wearily. Gavin marvels at his own ability to be frustrating enough to make an android need to perform deep breathing exercises. “If this wasn’t a murder investigation with multiple witnesses around, you’d be buried beneath the rubble of this building by now.”

“The more you threaten me the more I wanna fuck with you.” Does Connor not understand that Gavin’s body is seventy percent H2O and thirty percent wants2die? 

“And Hank says  _ I  _ have a poor sense of self preservation.” Connor rolls his eyes, turning back into the building’s interior and taking a step forward onto the first red X.

It’s not really a poor sense of self preservation so much as a romanticised ideation of death and dying that comes with growing up in a time that glorified depression and made anxiety into a trend, but Gavin decides not to mention that. “Yeah, well make it less fun to rile you up and I’ll risk my own life in the process a little less.” Instead he just focuses on following two steps behind Connor, carefully stepping exactly where the android had moments before. “Or you could just not threaten to kill me.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Connor glances over his shoulder with a smug grin. 

The trail stops at a door that is, once again, locked. It’s not as worn down since it hasn’t been exposed to the elements as much, but Connor makes quick work of it before Gavin can even offer to turn back and grab a lock picking kit. It’s hard to remember that Connor is a machine capable of exerting hundreds of pounds of force in a limited space when he’s dressed in a light blue button up and pants that are cuffed at the ankles like a fucking college philosophy professor, but goddamn is it difficult to ignore when the android literally  _ rips a door off it’s hinges. _

It’s fucking terrifying. And hot. But mostly  ~~ hot ~~ terrifying.

“Jesus, okay I get it. No more bullying.” Gavin holds his hands up in surrender, watching with wide eyes as Connor easily tosses the door aside like it weighs nothing.  ~~ He wants Connor to do that to him. ~~ “You could’ve just forced it open, you didn’t need to do that. Holy shit.”

“But just forcing the door open doesn’t get my point across as well, does it?” Connor’s laugh is something wicked, the android is definitely having way too much fun threatening Gavin’s life.

“Is this? Bullying? Am I the one being bullied now? Oh how the turntables.” Gavin can’t help but laugh as well, and it’s almost enough to forget that they’re at the scene of a murder. 

Almost. 

An officer takes this moment to duck inside the door, shining a flashlight directly in Gavin’s fucking eyes. “Hey we heard a loud noise, everything alright?” 

“Christ, Jimenez, get that fucking thing out of my face, everything’s fine.” Gavin waves the officer away, turning his head away from the searing light in his eyes. 

“Don’t fuck up anymore evidence, Reed.” Another officer calls from just outside the door, and Gavin just barely resists the urge to stomp his foot indignantly, only just remembering that that’s probably not the best idea on these floors. 

“I didn’t fuck up any evidence, asshole! And I could say the same to you, don’t come crashing through the fucking floor on your way in here, this place is a goddamn nightmare. Follow the X’s.” 

“X’s?” The officer pokes their head in the door, and in the dim light Gavin recognizes officer Wilson. 

“Yeah. On the floor. They mark the safe places to step, I think. It’d make sense, this shithole is falling apart.” Although Connor had stepped in a few different places than where the X’s were, probably spots that were more structurally sound. 

“Thanks for the heads up.” Jimenez mock-salutes and motions for a few more officers to follow him inside as he starts to make his way across the perilous entryway of the abandoned building. 

Gavin turns his attention back to the now doorless door frame, sans one android who apparently got bored of the conversation and went on ahead of him down the stairs that the door led to. There’s no paint marking anything on the stairs, so Gavin can only pray that they’re all structurally sound as he descends them. 

The stairwell ends in another doorway, this one splintered where Connor forced the door open instead of fully detaching it from the wall it’s resting in. The aforementioned android is just on the other side of the doorway, scanning the dark expanse of the musty, unfinished basement as Gavin joins him. 

The stench of death is overpowering in this room, and Gavin has to cover his face with the collar of his shirt to keep from feeling like he’s breathing in the essence of the corpse itself. He uses the flashlight on his phone to light up the room once again, finding rows of dusty shelves overflowing with moldy boxes and strange things in jars that were probably once food, but are now just cultures of bacteria and god knows what else. The body is seated on a throne of boxes, the cardboard growing soggy and decaying along with the corpse. It’s been here for a while, staring ahead eternally just like the stiff in the park. 

“I’ll put my money on this one being a ghost too.” Gavin’s voice is muffled behind his shirt, but he refuses to remove it, pinching his free hand over his nose and mouth and bunching up the fabric as much as possible to filter out the stench of corpse. 

“It’s hard to get any kind of facial recognition on this one, she’s been dead for nearly twenty days, but I’m inclined to agree.” If Gavin didn’t know any better, he’d say that Connor looks half-sick himself from looking at the corpse. 

And Gavin doesn’t know better, so he asks. “You alright? No one’s gonna blame you for not licking this one.” 

Connor grimaces, pulling the coin out of his pocket and walking it over his knuckles. “I wasn’t planning on licking the corpse to begin with, Detective, but thank you for that lovely mental image. I still, however, have to collect and test samples.” Which he also doesn’t sound too stoked about, if Gavin’s being honest. 

A few officers finally make it down the stairs and into the basement with them, flashlights illuminating the area as someone loudly complains about the smell. Gavin ignores them all, trying really hard to remember why the fuck him and Connor had to bring an entire fucking forensics team with them when Connor has a whole-ass analysis lab on his tongue anyways. 

“Well, have fun with that. I’m gonna see why this stiff is so interested in this wall over here.” Gavin jerks his thumb over his shoulder to the wall behind him where the corpse’s half-decayed eyes are pointed. 

Connor looks at the corpse sitting in a pile of soggy cardboard, soaked through by the fluids of rot and decay, and then he looks back at Gavin. “Actually, I think I’ll help with that.” 

Yeah, Gavin doesn’t blame him for that one, actually electing to keep his mouth shut and not give Connor shit for once. Android or not, the idea of putting anything in this basement near his tongue makes him want to projectile vomit, and he’s glad Connor isn’t too keen on the idea either. There’s other people here that can take samples and test them the old fashioned way, it may take longer, but at least it’s less traumatizing in the long run.

Gavin turns and points his phone light at the wall, not noting anything particularly remarkable about the sparsely filled shelf resting in front of it. The wall itself however… 

“Hang on…” Gavin pockets his phone, letting go of his shirt collar and nearly gagging as a new wave of rot hits the back of his throat. He coughs roughly into his hand a few times, very poorly masking the fact that he’s about three seconds away from losing the breakfast he never ate. 

After a second of trying not to fucking die on the spot, Gavin regains his bearings and grabs one side of the shelf, motioning with his head for Connor to join him. “Help me move this out of the way, will ya Philips CDI?” 

Connor doesn’t hesitate, although he does roll his eyes at the nickname, he grabs the other end of the shelf and helps Gavin push it off to the side, exposing the wood paneling of the wall behind it. The only wall that’s made of wood, while the other three in the room are entirely composed of cinderblock. Gavin raps his knuckles against the wood, unsurprised whenever his knocks sound hollow. 

“A false wall.” Connor comments, and Gavin isn’t sure if he should be offended or not that Connor sounds impressed over the fact that Gavin managed to figure it out. He may be a dumbass, but he  _ is  _ a detective. He knows how to deduce a thing or two on occasion. 

A few minutes of pressing on different spots on the wall gets a loose piece of panelling to slip out, the opening just large enough for Gavin to walk straight through and have his shoulders touch either side. “Huh. This is some horror movie man living in the walls kinda shit now.” He glances over his shoulder at Connor. 

“You first.” The android makes a little shooing motion with his hand, reminding Gavin of their interaction a few minutes ago.

“Karma really is a bitch, huh?” Gavin huffs, walking into the gap in the wall and immediately being overwhelmed with a sense of claustrophobia. He has to turn sideways to progress more than a few inches into the space, and the feeling of being trapped only increases whenever Connor steps in behind him, cutting off his only definite route of escape. “I fucking hate this, this is the worst. I’m going to have nightmares about this, I hope you know that.” 

“Just keep moving, Detective. This has to lead somewhere.” Connor pushes gently on Gavin’s shoulder, not hard enough to actually make him move, and Gavin suspects that if he really started to freak out, Connor would actually let him turn back. 

That small fact at least makes it a little easier for him to move forward. “Yeah, but it might lead somewhere fucking awful, and then I’m absolutely fucked.” Still, he takes a few more steps into the opening, the light from the other officer’s flashlights in the other room fading out as he journeys deeper into the Gaping Wall Abyss. He grabs his phone out of his pocket, using it once again to light the way for himself, although he’s really not sure if he even wants to see what kind of fucked up shit he’s about to walk into. 

In reality the space is only about five feet long, and Gavin is just taking tiny baby steps because he’s actually fucking terrified of being eaten by a cannibalistic wall man, but Connor doesn’t make any comments about this fact, and for that Gavin is eternally grateful. 

The path comes to an abrupt, ninety degree turn, almost impossible for a grown man to navigate around in such a small space. Still, Gavin somehow manages it, unable to breathe the entire fucking time, and he comes face to face with a pristine white door. 

“Well. That’s a little out of place,” Gavin mumbles stupidly. He glances down where the handle should be, only to find a handprint scanner in its place. Yeah. Really fucking out of place. “Hey, Connor, can you hack this or whatever?” 

“What, no kitchen appliance or gaming console themed nickname this time?” Connor reaches awkwardly around Gavin to reach the scanner, the android’s arm pinning him uncomfortably against the wall because there’s  _ no fucking room in here. _

“I’ll think of something stupid to call you when I’m not stuffed in a fucking  _ closet _ .” Gavin’s voice is toeing the line between irrationally pissed off and hysterical. The door hisses and clicks open a millisecond later, and Gavin all but falls through it, damn near gasping for breath like he’d just been underwater. “That was fucking-” His words die in his throat as he takes in the room around him. White, clinical, and full of half completed androids hanging from the walls like taxidermied animals. 

So their guy isn’t just killing humans, then. 

But that isn’t right, Gavin realises as he looks around. There’s an impressive amount of technology crammed into the small room with them, computers and clinical steel tables overshadowed by a giant machine that looks like some kind of sick, twisted claw game. This is a room for experimenting. 

Gavin can’t help but glance over at Connor, trying to gauge the android’s reaction to such a horrific discovery. It’s not hard to see the alarm on his face, eyes wide in horror as he scans through the room, still doing his job even in a state of obvious shock. 

“Connor-”

“I can’t tell what model they are.” Connor cuts Gavin off, and he can tell by the way Connor says them that those words should mean something to him, that they should carry some kind of weight, but he just doesn’t get it. 

“So they’re like the humans?” Because that’s the best guess Gavin can come up with. No model number means that they don’t exist, right? But that shouldn’t really be all that shocking, really. It’s kind of their perp’s MO at the moment. “Ghosts? They exist but there’s no proof? That kinda thing?” 

Connor shakes his head, eyes still trained on one of the more finished androids, white chassis missing a hand and an eye, but nothing else. “These parts are from all kinds of models, AX’s, GJ’s, even YK models. These aren’t- they’re not-” Connor shakes his head again and Gavin finally gets it. 

These aren’t ghosts in the system, they’re zombies. Frankenstein androids being built underground using parts from other androids, and they have no way of knowing where those parts are coming from. These parts could be harvested from live androids or a scrapyard, there’s no way of knowing. Not until they catch whoever is behind all of this. 

Something clicks with Gavin then, a piece of information that doesn’t really help in any way, but is at the very least one less thing that they don’t know. “These must be the AA850’s.” 

Connor finally tears his eyes away from the android in front of him to look at Gavin, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “It would make sense. That’s not a real model that I know of, and these aren’t… they’re not real androids. If our victims are somehow connected, it’s not too far fetched to believe that the code on that laptop was meant for-” He gestures to the corpses hanging on the walls, not finishing his sentence. 

“If we could just get someone to fully break down the AA850 code for us, it might help us understand… Hell any of this? Even just a little bit. Anything would help at this fucking point.” Gavin runs a hand through his hair. “I mean I can make out the bare minimum, but anyone can if they know how to read. We’d need someone who’s actually worked on androids before. Not that I’d actually trust a Cyberlife employee as far as I could fuckin’ throw em.” 

Connor lets out a heavy sigh and pulls out his coin again, flicking it between his fingers as he appears to get lost in thought for a little while, leaving Gavin to just stare stupidly around the room for a few minutes until the android finally speaks up again. “I think… I think I might know someone who can help us, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me desperately writing new updates and posting sporadically as i ignore all my homework.


	13. Aesop's Fables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gavin is doing a shit job at quitting smoking

The first few minutes of the drive to wherever it is they’re going are silent. Connor’s grip on the steering wheel is tight enough that Gavin’s pretty sure if he had blood flow, his knuckles would be white with the strain. If the android wasn’t driving, there’s no doubt he’d have his stupid coin out, fidgeting in that way that Connor swears is absent-minded, but Gavin _knows_ he’s showing off. 

“So, I have a stupid question.” Gavin breaks the silence, turning his attention from Connor’s hands on the steering wheel and to the android’s face instead. 

Connor glances his way, eyebrow raised. “You say that like most of your questions aren’t stupid.” 

“Touché, but also fuck you. I just wanna know if you’re okay.” Obviously the android probably isn’t too messed up if he’s still cracking jokes, but then again Gavin once said thank you to a perp that stabbed him, so that might not mean as much as he thinks it does. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” And here Gavin thought he was the one with the stupid questions. 

“I dunno, maybe because of the frankendroid basement we just stumbled out of.” Gavin’s seen his fair share of fucked up shit; dead bodies, dismembered bodies, but never dead dismembered body parts stitched back together with other people’s dead dismembered body parts. If those were humans- and Gavin fucking hates himself for thinking this way, but- if those were humans, Gavin probably would’ve quit his job on the fucking spot. That and puked. But they were androids, not humans. Connor’s people. 

He remembers hearing once that Connor can see blue blood long after it evaporates, and he wonders for a moment how bloody the crime scene really was. 

Impossibly, Connor’s grip tightens on the steering wheel even more. “We don’t have a lot of information about them. The parts could’ve been harvested from a scrapyard.” 

“That logic’s fucked and you know it. A dead body is a dead body. It doesn’t matter how it was put there or how it died. All that matters is that someone ripped apart various androids, some of which were _child models_ , and stuffed the parts back together-”

“I FUCKING KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.” Connor snaps, voice loud and vicious, pitching just left of human and taking on an almost staticky quality. If Gavin didn’t know better he’d say that Connor was shaking. The android takes a deep, steadying breath, and Gavin no longer feels proud of his ability to stress Connor out to the point of needing deep breathing exercises. This time when the android speaks, his voice is almost too quiet, nearly cracking mid sentence. “I was there. I could see more than you could. Believe me. _I know._ ” 

And because Gavin has no sense of self preservation, he has the audacity to respond. “So I take it you’re not actually okay.” 

Connor huffs a humorless laugh, LED on his temple spinning red for just a second. “Why would I be?” 

It’s the answer Gavin was looking for, the one he knew was the truth, but he didn’t get it the way he wanted to, and now that he has it, he’s not really sure what to do with it. He opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn’t really have anything to say. 

Connor cuts off his silence, grip on the steering wheel so murderous that Gavin is amazed it’s still in one piece. “But me not being okay has nothing to do with the investigation. It won’t help anything. It won’t help us find who did this. It’ll only get in the way. I need a clear head.” 

“And you think the best way to keep a clear head is by pretending to be okay when you're not.” Gavin fixes Connor with an unimpressed stare, no longer dumbstruck by the android’s honesty, but fully dumbfounded by the android’s stupidity. 

“No, it’s by compartmentalizing.” 

And Gavin has to bite back a dry laugh, because Connor is upset right now and laughing at him would be mean(er than usual). “Call it what you want, it sounds a whole lot to me like pretending you’re fine. Which is probably more effort than it’s worth, and probably more distracting than you think it is. It’ll just come back to bite you in the ass eventually.” 

“Are you speaking from experience, Detective?” The question is half caught between sarcasm and sincere curiosity, and Gavin doesn’t pick up any cues from Connor’s aborted glance between him and the road to guess which it is. 

With a sigh, Gavin goes for the honest answer. “Yes.” Because he’s trying this new thing out lately where he’s only an asshole when he knows it won’t actually hurt anyone, and this seems like the kind of time where being an asshole would hurt. He’s worked very hard to be something to Connor other than the asshole bigot that tried to shoot him. Multiple times. “Several experiences.”

“And if I asked you to elaborate?” 

That’s a trick question, Gavin knows a trick question when he hears one and that is definitely a trick question. “I wouldn’t.” 

The steering wheel makes a weird crackling noise. “So you’re just allowed to force yourself into my life, ask unwanted and frankly intrusive questions, and play therapist when, full offense, you are horrifically underqualified, but whenever I want to know anything about you it’s off limits?” 

Gavin fucking knew it was a trick question. He huffs an irritated sigh, fingers itching to pull out a cigarette. He fully regrets ever bringing the conversation up, although to be fair, he never thought that a one year old android would be so good at picking apart people’s emotional walls. He turns his attention to the window, contemplating the merits of bailing out of the passenger side entirely whenever they pass by a sign letting them know that they are approaching the Detroit river and suddenly a violent spike of irrational anxiety pierces through Gavin’s chest. “Connor. Where are we going?” 

“Detective, if you think it’s that easy to distract me-”

“Connor just answer the goddamn question, where the fuck are we going?” Because there’s no way that they’re going where Gavin’s stupid brain thinks they’re going and he just really needs Connor to confirm that. 

“I’d like you to answer at least one of my questions if I have to answer all of yours.” Connor, annoyingly, stands his ground, and Gavin resists the urge to bang his head against the window. 

“Yeah, okay, yeah, fine. Story time after you tell me where the fuck we’re going.” 

Connor gives Gavin a look like he’s crazy, which, to be fair Gavin _is_ acting crazy. He feels a little crazy too. But at least the android finally answers Gavin’s question. “I told you, I know someone who can help us parse the code for the AA850’s. Kamski isn’t the most reasonable man, but he can’t deny that he owes me a favor after our last run in with each other.” 

Gavin feels all the air leave his lungs. Probably also the cab of the car. Maybe the air has just been removed from earth in it’s entirety all of a sudden, because he _can’t fucking breathe._ “Pull over.” 

“Detective,” Connor sounds unamused and totally not concerned at all with the fact that Gavin is _actively suffocating,_ “I believe you owe me-” 

“Stop this fucking car or I swear to christ I will fucking tuck and roll, Connor.” And Gavin isn’t exaggerating, he has one hand on the door handle, the other on the release for his seatbelt. He’s more than willing to break a few bones and suffer some severe road rash to get out of seeing fucking _Elijah Kamski_ face to face. Hell, he’d be cool with dying if it meant avoiding a meeting with that goddamn psychopath. 

“Okay, alright. Fine.” The car slows down as Connor pulls off onto the shoulder, and Gavin doesn’t even wait long enough for it to fully stop before he’s shooting out of his seat and pacing frantically back and forth. He grabs a cigarette with his shaking fingers (and fuck why is he shaking so bad) and lights it up, ignoring whatever disappointed or upset look Connor probably has on his face as he takes a deep drag. “Detective-”

“ _Kamski?_ Fucking _Kamski,_ Connor? Are you fucking kidding me?” Gavin takes another deep drag of his cigarette, because apparently he can’t breathe in any air, but he can inhale smoke just fine. 

“I understand he’s not the most… pleasant person to deal with.” Gavin lets out a borderline crazed laugh at the understatement. “But we need his cooperation if we want to get anywhere with this case.” 

“Listen here, Tin Can,” Connor winces at Gavin’s use of his old go-to insult, and Gavin would feel bad if he could feel anything other than panic thinly veiled as rage at the moment, “I would sooner let myself be ripped apart and strung up in that basement to be used as a fucked sideways science project than look my dear old big brother in the fucking eye ever again.” 

Connor doesn’t respond, LED spinning rapidly between red and yellow and red and yellow on his temple as the milliseconds stretch out between them long enough for Gavin to realize that, for all Connor’s supposed omnipotence, his relation to Elijah Kamski was apparently a fact that eluded the android. And he just let it fucking slip. 

Fuck. 

“I was… unaware that you and Kamski are brothers.” Connor states the obvious. 

“Half brothers. And it’s not like I really broadcast it.” Scrubbing a free hand down his face, Gavin contemplates the merits of walking out into traffic. 

There’s another brief moment of silence before Connor speaks up again. “Could this… possibly be one of your examples of pretending like everything’s fine until it comes back to bite you in the ass?” 

Despite his best efforts, Gavin can’t help but bark out a laugh. “Honestly, Family Hub, fuck you for having the audacity to be funny while I’m in obvious distress.” 

“My apologies, Detective.” Somehow Connor couldn’t sound any less sorry if he tried. 

“You’re not wrong, though.” Gavin exhales the last of his cigarette, dropping the stub to the ground and crushing it under his heel. The only thing keeping him from pulling out another is the direct eye contact he’s currently making with Connor. Those goddamn puppy eyes. “I haven’t talked to the fucker in- god- probably fifteen years at least. Not that I’m complaining. Good fucking riddence. I’m sure he thinks the same thing about me. I mean, fuck, he was _raised_ to think of me as a human inconvenience, so I know how he feels about me.” 

“Detec-” Connor pauses, sizing Gavin up for a moment before letting out a tired sigh. “Gavin, you don’t have to tell me-”

“I do though, don’t I? I mean, we made a deal, Duolingo.” The corner of Connor’s lips tic up at the nickname, and somehow the air becomes a little easier to breathe. 

Taking a deep breath, Gavin prepares to tell an android that he somehow went from trying to shoot in the head to living with all about the repressed childhood trauma that only his fucking therapist knows about. Well, his therapist and Tina. “Eli and I have the same dad, different moms. I’m the bastard. Which essentially sums up the entirety of my life in one sentence. Eli’s mom and our dad were married, my mom was the stripper at the bachelor party before the ceremony. The money we bought our food with was money that was sent to us to keep quiet about the fact that I existed.”

“I’m so sorry-” Connor starts to apologize and Gavin desperately stomps down the urge to punch the android in the throat.

“Nope, shut the fuck up, the adult is talking.” He holds a hand up to silence the android, fixing him with a pointed glare. Connor snaps his mouth shut and nods at Gavin to continue.

He rubs idly at the scar on his nose, fingers itching with the urge to reach into his pocket for another cigarette. “I’d love to lie and say that we at least lived the good life with all the cash that was thrown our way to keep us quiet, but mom did a real fuckin’ good job of spending it all on meth. You know, the classic crystal, what people got high on before my fucking awesome genius brother created the main ingredient in red ice? She fucked her dealer for discounts and looked the other way when he took his anger out on me because she didn’t want to lose out on the sweet deal she had going.” 

Gavin finally caves, pulling out another cigarette with shaking fingers. “What kind of sick fuck thinks it’s funny to lock a little kid in a closet and go on a three day bender with his mom?” 

Connor makes a sound in the back of his throat that reminds Gavin of a whining puppy. “Gavin-”

“I didn’t get to the good part yet, there’s a moral to this story.” He lights his cigarette, taking a deep drag and contemplating the benefits of sleeping in his car tonight so he doesn’t have to deal with being alone in his apartment with Connor after this. “Naturally, I got pretty fuckin’ sick of it pretty fuckin’ quick. My mom was the one being paid off to keep her mouth shut, not me. I think I was, like, eight when I finally got the balls to show up on the Kamski’s doorstep. 

“I think the worst part of it all, was that Eli’s mom was, like, completely accepting of it. She knew her husband was a piece of shit already. Wasn’t even surprised that he had a little bastard running around the same age as her own kid. She was more than willing to take me in when my mom overdosed. Dad wasn’t happy about it, obviously, but I mean, fuck that guy anyways. He hit like a bitch compared to some of my birth mom’s boyfriends. Sometimes I purposely pissed him off just to make sure his attention was always on me and not Eli and his mom. It’s not like I couldn’t take it. Hell, I was basically born for it. It got worse when Eli’s mom died, though. Cancer. Nothing anyone could’ve done. So naturally it was somehow my fault. If only I had stayed in the gutter with my whore mom, their perfect little family could’ve been preserved in time for all eternity or some shit like that.”

The comforting weight of Connor’s hands settle on Gavin’s shoulders as he’s forced to lock eyes with the android, the situation a parody of only a few days prior when they’d been standing outside the wreckage of Jericho together. “That’s not true and you know it.”

Taking another drag of his cigarette, Gavin only nods. He knows. Honestly, he’s pretty sure he didn’t give off the impression at any point that he didn’t know. Hell, it sounds more to him like Connor is trying to say something comforting just to make himself feel better than to actually comfort Gavin. He turns his head to the side, breathing out the smoke in his lungs. They’re both emotional wrecks at the moment, so he lets it slide. “I learned a long time ago not to believe anything that fucker says.” 

Connor nods, the motion jerky and… robotic. Not at all like his usual fluid and confident movements. “Good.” He hesitates a moment, squeezing Gavin’s shoulders before letting his hands fall back to his sides before repeating himself again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Good.” 

The silence hangs between them for a moment, Gavin’s story time effectively interrupted by Connor’s interjection. And then, after finishing up his cigarette, Gavin picks up where he left off.

“So, I don’t know if you’ve figured this out yet or not, but between the two of us, Eli’s the smart one. I never even considered the possibility of calling the cops until he finally did it. Well, I think he just called 9-1-1 because I was bleeding profusely on account of my head being shoved through a window, but the cops showed up too. You wanna guess what fresh young rookie happened to show up to the scene that night?” 

Connor’s only response is to tilt his head in question, either remaining silent for lack of a decent guess or due to abject horror at the mention of Gavin being forcibly defenestrated through a still closed window. Gavin wonders briefly if Cyberlife purposely made the android so fucking puppy-like. 

“Officer Hank Anderson.” Connor’s eyes blow wide at the revelation, like Gavin just told him that Trix _aren’t_ for kids. 

“The son of a bitch was working his first week on the beat, got called in for a domestic dispute, was probably expecting a couple arguing over bills or some shit, not some scrawny fourteen year old punk bleeding out on the kitchen floor. I don’t really remember a whole lot from that time, but I know he visited me in the hospital, and not just to get my statement. He was my only willing visitor. CPS already got their claws in Eli, took him off to who the fuck knows where. Once I got out of the hospital, I was placed in the system. Big shocker, the system fucking sucks. I made it a year before I ran. I mean, I already knew how to go days without food and winters without warmth from living with my birth mom, being homeless was basically like that but without the training wheels of having a roof over my head.”

Gavin feels naked, revealing so much to Connor about himself. Every single tragic detail about his pathetic life on full display. He can feel the pity coming off the android in waves, it’s something that he doesn’t want- has never wanted from anyone. He wants to be seen as a person, not a fucking a project to be worked on. But once someone learns how broken he is, that’s all they ever see. It’s funny, how he can relate so much to androids on feeling dehumanized, yet he’s one of the fucking assholes that treated androids like objects in the past.

“Anderson and I ran into each other every once in a while, he’d pretend to slap me on the wrists for shoplifting, I’d pretend like I had a home to go back to, and he’d pretend to believe me. I kept going to school purely because the locker room had showers and I got one free meal a day, which is one more than the zero I would be eating otherwise. At some point in my junior year, I got the privilege of finding out through the fucking _news_ that my brother had already somehow graduated college as an emancipated minor, and was well on his way to creating what people were suspecting would be the biggest technological breakthrough in history blah blah blah, whatever. 

“After some light stalking, I found out where he lived, and knocked on his front door. He opened it, looked me in the eyes, and slammed it in my fucking face. I didn’t know what to do after that. I thought I was gonna find him, and we’d be brothers again, you know? That I’d have a place to sleep again. I didn’t have a plan B. Tina found me unresponsive in a McDonalds. We went to school together. Shared some classes. Never really talked before that. But I guess she was in the mood to bug a clearly distraught, homeless teenager that day, because she wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone until I told her what was wrong. And for whatever fucking reason… I told her. I don’t know how the fuck she did it, but one minute I’m crying in a fast food restaurant and the next I’m staying in the guest room in her parent’s house indefinitely. I didn’t move out until after I graduated. Tina Chen is an actual fucking goddess and she is probably the only reason I’m still alive today.”

Connor jolts at that, a full body twitch, like the thought of Gavin Motherfucking Reed dying cold in the streets just wasn’t something that was even a possibility. “You weren’t planning to…”

“Kill myself?” Gavin finishes Connor’s question, letting out a humorless laugh. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I can tell you for sure that at that point in my life, I didn’t see myself living long enough to drink legally.” He shrugs, nonchalant. Connor looks half caught between horrified and miserable. It’s not a very good look for him, Gavin decides.

“I joined the force right out of high-school, I think I just needed some kind of purpose. That and Anderson put in a good word for me, believe it or not. Tina went to college first, but we’ve never stopped being attached at the hip. Obviously. Kamski’s made one or two half-assed attempts at what I think were supposed to be apologies, but he talks with money and that’s a language that I just don’t fucking speak. Feels too much like what his dad did to me and my mom. I’ve cut him off, just like he did me. I have no fucking desire to see him again. I don’t know why he did what he did, I don’t want to know why, and I, quite frankly, might actually commit a crime if I have to look that smug fuck in the eye. So, to reiterate the moral of the story, Easy Bake Oven, I’m not, nor have I ever been okay. I just act like it, and now it is very much coming back to bite me in the fucking ass.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Connor shakes his head, eyes wide.

“My names Gavin, actually.” 

Connor snorts at that, shoving Gavin’s shoulder, letting his hand linger as his face turns serious. “We don’t have to follow up on this lead today. Hank can do it on Monday.” 

Reaching up, Gavin covers Connor’s hand with his own, letting out a tired sigh. It’s tempting to do just that. To just return to the station and let Hank handle Gavin’s asshole sibling. But people have died, and it’s worth risking a panic attack if it means they can catch the motherfucker who killed them. “We can’t postpone a fucking murder investigation just because I’m mad at my brother, Connor.” 

“I think you and I both know that the situation is more serious than you just being-”

“People are dead, Connor.” Gavin cuts the android off. “And more people will die unless we get our asses in gear. If I don’t think I can handle it, I’ll back out and- and wait in the car or some shit. But- fuck- I mean. Let’s just get this shit over with so I can go home and get drunk with my cats, okay?” He looks at Connor, eyes pleading. 

The grip on his shoulder tightens, and Connor looks for all the world like he wants to say no, but he just sighs and nods. “Okay.” 

Connor’s hand falls from his shoulder as Gavin turns and starts walking back to the car. “Okay, let’s get this over with before I realize what a bad fucking idea it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akdsjco guys im trying so hard to catch back up to my regular upload schedule i swear anyways heres a thing


End file.
